A Marauder type Love
by 70 inc
Summary: It started out at just a joke, a prank if you will but it spun out to something more. Or maybe it was something more all along. A love story to make the Marauders proud. DMHP no HBP compliant.
1. Chapter 1

**A Marauder-type Love**

**Chapter one: Just a prank**

"Harry, I really don't think this is a good idea." Hermione Granger said biting her lip nervously as she followed her two male friends to the dungeon for Potions.

"Don't listen to her, mate. It's bloody brilliant." Ron Weasley said, clapping Harry on the back. Harry didn't respond to either of his friends. If truth be told, he was rather nervous about the whole thing as well but at the same time he was excited. The odd mixture of emotions had left his heart pounding heavily with each step, his head whirling like a carnival ride and his stomach acting as if it were trying to be on the Olympic gymnastics team.

"Ron, it is _not_ brilliant. Harry's sure to get detention." Hermione argued. Ron scoffed.

"There's no way ol' bat brain can give Harry detention. As far as anyone else is concerned _Harry's _the victim." Ron beamed proudly at his best mate. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Snape is sure to find a way to pin it on Harry." She muttered. "Anyway, Harry how did you come up with something like this?" She asked turning to look at the silent black-haired boy.

It took Harry a few moments to realize that he was being spoken to.

"Wha- oh, um Moony." Harry answered distractedly.

"Moony…REMUS!" Hermione shrieked. Harry winced as her voice echoed through the corridor.

"Yes," Harry snapped sticking a finger in his ear to try and get the ringing to stop.

"But-but, he was a prefect! How-"Hermione sputtered. Ron rolled his eyes.

"He _was_ a marauder, 'Mione." Ron said. Hermione just gaped at them. Ron turned his attention to Harry. "Did the marauders pull a prank like this on someone? A certain Slytherin perhaps?" He asked.

"Uh, no, well, yes. Sort of." Harry stuttered. "Moony played the prank on Padfoot." Harry explained. Ron looked confused for a moment than understanding seemed to have dawned on him.

"Oh, pulled a friendly little prank huh?" He said. Harry nodded. "See, Hermione? Nothing to worry about. If it's alright to pull between two friends than it can't be as bad as you think." Ron said to the girl who just glared at him in response.

The trio came to a halt outside of the Potions classroom. Harry gave an audible gulp.

"Well, here goes nothing." He said looking at his two friends. Hermione gave him a disappointed look and crossed her arms over her chest and Ron grinned at him encouragingly and gave him a thumbs up.

Harry took a deep breath and entered the classroom. He and his friends just barely made it to their seats before a very irate Professor Snape swooped into the room looking like a bat out of hell.

"Ten points for Gryffindor for being late." He snapped at Harry and his friends who were still standing. Ron opened is mouth to protest but Hermione quickly silenced him with a sharp elbow to the ribs.

Ron glared at her indignantly as he rubbed his sore ribs but he closed his mouth and sat down just the same.

Once at the front of the room, Snape waved his wand and the chalkboards behind him were quickly covered in writing. With no preamble, the greasy professor jumped into a lecture on the properties of dragon blood and its purposes in potions.

"Harry, he's really in a foul mood. I don't think you should do this today." Hermione whispered to him out of the corner of her mouth, her lips unmoving. It was a skill she had learned and perfected over the years of trying to secretly help Neville in Potions.

Harry just barely shook his head. He was going to go through with it and Snape was always a grouchy git so really, what was the difference?

It was ten minutes into the lecture, which for once Harry was very happy about it being lecture day seeing as it would make his plan much more difficult to pull off if it had been a practical lesson, before Harry decided it was time. Putting down his quill ever so slowly as to not draw attention to himself, Harry slipped his free hand into the left pocket of his robe and withdrew a crisp, folded piece of parchment.

Transferring the parchment from his left hand to his right, Harry let it slip threw his fingers and fall to the floor next to the outside of his right foot. Harry, never taking his eyes off of the front of the room, then pulled out his wand and muttered a spell that caused the piece of parchment to tap his ankle. It was a popular spell for the note-passing students of Hogwarts.

Harry put his wand back into his pocket and took up his quill again. He took a few notes before 'taking notice' of the note tapping his ankle. He made a great show of surprise and trying to reach down and pick up the note without Snape noticing.

Once he had the note in hand, Harry slowly began to open it, glancing this way and that as if he were looking for a hint on who had written it. He also shot a glance Snape's way every now and then to see if he had noticed. Harry than began to read the note and acted as if he were too enthralled by its contents to notice Ron's persistent attempt at getting his attention or Snape towering over him.

"Mr. Potter," Snape said coldly and Harry jumped and attempted to hide the note but Snape was too quick and the note was immediately snatched from his hands. "Ten points from Gryffindor for reading notes in class." He snapped. "Now," he said as he made his way back to the front of the room. "Let's see what Mr. Potter found so interesting that it took his attention off of my lecture." Snape said smiling sadistically.

Harry didn't say anything he just stared at Snape as if he were in shock. Snape took that as the boy being frozen in fear of the whole class hearing his note. Snape's smile widened and grew wicked. He lifted the parchment and began to read aloud.

"Dear Harry, (it feels so good to be able to pen that name)" Snape looked disgusted but continued to read just the same.

"I know you might be a bit shocked by what I am about to tell you in this letter, but I just couldn't keep it to myself any longer. I have to say it;

I want you, Harry Potter. I want you in the worst way.

Wow, do you know how long I have wanted to tell you that? Sometimes it seems like forever. I cant even being to explain how bad I want you. I see you all the time, in the halls laughing with your friends and it makes me sick with jealousy. I see you in class and am filled with envy by your skills.

But most of all, I see you on the Quidditch pitch and I am overcome with passion. The sight of you on that broomstick nearly undoes me. I go weak in the knees at the mere thought of your perfect arse nestled upon that fortunate piece of wood.

What I wouldn't give to have you, in my life and in my bed. I yearn for you, I ach for you and I crave you." Through out the reading of the note Snape's face turned fifty shades of red from embarrassment, but as he came to the signature at the end of the letter, his eyes went wide and he turned a sickly shade of green. "I think I'm going to be sick." He whispered before clamping a hand over his mouth and rushing out of the room.

In his haste, Snape let the vile note slip from his fingers and it fluttered delicately to the floor. All eyes in the room were on it and it was snatched up before it hit the ground.

"Well let's see who Harry's admire is, shall we?" Seamus Finnigan said with a grin. He looked down at the note and at the signature. His grin faded to a look of utter shock. He looked around the room.

Every student in the room watched Seamus anxiously and with bated breath. The boy's face was blank and he stared straight ahead as he began to walk through the rows of tables. Many gasped in shock as he made his way toward the Slytherin side of the room.

At last, after what had to be an eternity, Seamus neared a table. It was second to the last in the third row and had three Slytherins, two were glaring and one stared at the Gryffindor in shock. Draco and Blaise immediately narrowed their eyes when Seamus stopped at their table and Pansy just gaped.

"That was hot," Seamus said with a wicked grin as he dropped the letter in front of…Draco Malfoy. Everyone in the room gasped and Neville nearly swooned. Draco's eyes went wide.

"What?" He cried. He looked at the letter. It did indeed say his name at the bottom and was even in his handwriting. "But- I didn't…how…" He sputtered. Draco's head snapped up and his eyes were blazing. "Potter," he snarled.

Leaping to his feet Draco stormed over to the Gryffindor.

"What the bloody hell is this?" He raged shaking the letter at the boy. Harry looked dazed and a bit ill. He didn't respond, instead he scrambled out of his chair and moved away from the blond. "Answer me, dammit." Draco snarled advancing on the boy.

"No," Harry cried. "Keep him away from me. He going to try and have his way with me." This brought Draco to a halt.

"I will attempt no such thing." He assured the boy and took a step toward him.

"Ah! He wants to de-virginize my arse." Harry yelled.

"I want to what?" He asked dubiously.

"Please, save me. He wants me to be his man-slave and wear a collar and leash and leather trousers and-and other stuff." Harry wailed hiding behind a pillar. Draco's face went ashen.

"Really, Potter," He said as he shuddered. "Now that's just disgusting," Draco said looking as if he'd be sick.

Then, the doors to the dungeon flew open and Snape re-emerged. His red face went green again as he saw Draco and Harry facing each other. But instead of rushing off again, he swallowed and straightened his shoulders.

"Malfoy, Potter, sit down." He ordered with a look that dared them to argue. Both boys quickly resumed their seats. "Mr. Malfoy, the letter if you'd please." He said holding out his hand as Draco went by. Draco couldn't look at him as he handed over the letter and quickly went back to his seat.

Snape put the letter on his desk behind him and then turned back to face the class.

"I will not tolerate such…spectacles again. Detention tonight, for both of you and fifteen points each." Snape said and glared down each boy in a way that said he was a centimeter from going over the edge and would definitely take them with him.

"Yes, Professor Snape." Both boys said flatly. Snape nodded curtly and went back to his lecture but nobody, save Hermione, was paying attention. They were much too interested in what was going on between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

(An: I know Harry's freak out was a bit ooc but I loved it ever so much and it amused me and I am the author so there. Lol also as a side note I have a lot of DM/HP on the burner but I promise my RL/SB fans that I am working on one)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two: detention**

"I can't believe the git gave you detention, Harry." Ron groused as they walked toward the Great Hall for dinner later that day.

"'S alright," Harry said with a shrug.

"Well it was bound to happen at any rate." Hermione said. Ron glared at her.

"Are you going to go off on the karma thing again?" He asked.

"No," She said shaking her head. "It wasn't karma. It was logic. It's only logical for Snape to punish a Gryffindor while punishing a Slytherin. There's no way he was going to give Malfoy detention and not Harry. It just isn't logical." She said in her best 'I know everything so fear me' voice. Ron just stared.

"Whatever," He said and turned to Harry. "Still's rotten luck, mate." He said as he piled food onto his plate.

"At least there's little chance of you having to work with Malfoy. I don't think Snape could handle seeing you two together after that." Hermione said.

"Yeah," Harry answered glumly.

"Everything alright, Harry?" Hermione asked looking at him with concern.

"Yeah, sure," Harry replied quickly, too quickly. Hermione gave him a look that said she didn't believe him. Harry looked at Ron, but the red-headed boy was too engrossed in shoving as much mash potatoes into his mouth as he could. He then turned to Hermione. "It's just…well, I thought that Malfoy would…I don't know, _do something_."

"What did you expect him to do?" Hermione asked looking at him oddly.

"I don't know," Harry said irritated by his own frustration. "Hit me or kill me or hex me or- or something." _Or something is right_ a voice said but Harry shoved it away.

"Or something?" She repeated surveying her friend. "Harry, I don't understand what's going on." Harry sighed heavily and turned miserable eyes on his friend. "What did you expect to get out of this thing with Malfoy?" Harry slouched.

"It's just…Malfoy's been so…sad lately." Harry said stumbling over his words. He couldn't quite put into words what he wanted to say. "I don't know." He mumbled. "I just wanted a reaction out of him. He's been…kinda down lately at its…unnerving." Harry said. Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

"I see," She said.

"Do you? Because I don't even understand this,"

"Oh, Harry, it's quite simple really." Harry snorted in disbelief. "No, really it is."

"Please, enlighten me." Harry mumbled.

"I think you just need something to remain consistent in you're life. Malfoy _has_ been acting strangely. I mean, he still is arrogant and all but he's much more reserved. And from the looks of it, it seems he hardly eats, or sleeps and I don't think I've heard him speak to anyone until yesterday." Hermione told him. "It makes sense that you want him to lash out at you, because he always did. It's strange to go from five years of hostility and animosity to nothing."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Harry said sighing. Hermione looked at him thoughtfully.

"Harry, can I ask you something?" She said.

"Alright,"

"Why are you so depressed right now?" Harry was a bit taken back by her question. He opened and closed his mouth. He wanted to tell her that he was not depressed but he couldn't force the words out of his mouth. Instead, the traitorous mouth said something else entirely.

"Malfoy's avoiding me." He said simply. It was Hermione's turn to resemble a fish out of water. She gaped at him. Obviously whatever it was she expected Harry to say, that wasn't it. Finally she was able to form a coherent sentence.

"Harry, I doubt Malfoy is avoiding you." She said logically. Just then the door to the Great Hall opened. Both of them turned their head to see Draco Malfoy enter. He took one look at Harry and turned tail and ran.

"Not avoiding me, huh?" Harry asked glumly.

"Well," Hermione said helpfully. Harry sighed and laid his head on his folded arms. At ten till seven he went down to the dungeons for his detention.

XxXxX

"About time, Potter," Professor Snape spat when the black-haired boy entered the Potions class room. He seemed, if at all possible, to be in a worse mood than he had been in all day. Standing next to him, looking straight ahead at the drab, stone wall, was Malfoy.

Snape glared between the two boys.

"As much as I might regret it later, I am going to leave the two of you to sever out your detention, alone." He said the last word as if it caused him great pain to do so. "I have an urgent meeting that I cannot miss. I have asked Professor Sprout to look in on you every now and then but she doesn't have all night to baby sit a bunch of troublemakers. When I return this classroom will be spotless, all the jars on my desk will be relabeled and shelved, the floor swept and I want the store cupboard to be reorganized. No magic and you will keep your hands to yourselves. Do I make myself clear?" He raised an eyebrow and looked at each boy who in turn nodded. "Good." Snape swirled his cloak around him masking the lighting and dropping of a fog bomb and sprinted out the door.

The two boys coughed as waved their arms to get the fog to dissipate. Once the room was clear, the two stood in awkward silence. Actually, Harry was awkward and Malfoy was silent.

"We must've really made him mad," Harry said.

"We?" Malfoy asked looking at Harry.

"Guess we should get to work then." Harry said and turned away and avoiding the question. Malfoy let it drop and the two set to work.

It only took Harry ten minutes before he cracked.

"You've been avoiding me," He accused the blond who was currently wiping down tables.

"Have not." The other responded curtly.

"You have so." Harry said stomping his foot.

"Alright, so I have been." Malfoy said over his shoulder as he scrubbed a spot on the table.

"Uh, w-well," Harry stuttered. He hadn't expected Malfoy to admit it so easily. "Why?" He asked.

"Why do you care?" Malfoy countered annoyed.

"I care because…because you're not your self and its really starting to bug me." Harry snapped. "What is with you?"

"I don't believe, Potter," Malfoy said, turning around. "That that is any of your business."

Immediately, Harry's defensives went up.

"Well, excuse _me,_ Malfoy, but I think it is. If you're avoiding me than obviously I am involved." He retorted.

"Yes, you're involved in why I am avoiding you but not in why I have been acting different." Malfoy responded coolly. "And I thought it quite obvious why I was avoiding you." Harry stared at him. "To everyone else it would seem." Malfoy sighed. "Potter, what did you think would happen after that episode in Potions? That I would tell you that I did feel that way and jump into your arms? Or possibly that I would walk up to you in the corridor and hit you?"

"The second one." Harry answered quickly not letting his mind dwell on the first.

"Always the barbarian I see." Malfoy said dryly. "But nonetheless the thought did cross my mind."

"Why didn't you?" Harry asked quietly.

"Because I couldn't," Malfoy answered in a way that said he wasn't going to elaborate and Harry took the answer in stride.

"Alright," He said and returned to his work.

After an hour of working and sneezing for the hundredth time Harry threw down his broom.

"That's it. I can't take it anymore." He said. Malfoy looked up from where he was re-labeling jars. "I need a break."

"I agree," Malfoy said, flexing his wrist. "I think I have that… carpet tumble."

"Carpel tunnel," Harry corrected. Sneezing he waved his arms about to clear the air of dust around him. "Always hated dust,"

"You sound all nasally." Malfoy pointed out. Harry gave him a half-hearted glare.

"Shud up," He said. Malfoy suppress a smile but wasn't wholly successful and Harry saw it. The two sat on top of a table in companionable silence for a while.

"This is weird." Harry said after a moment.

"Way to ruin a moment, Potter." Malfoy sneered.

"We were having a moment?" Harry questioned.

"No, but we could have, and now we shall never know," He said. Harry stared at him. "I'm joking, Potter." He said rolling his eyes.

"Oh," Harry said. His mind whirling with jumbled, mixed up thoughts.

"Where you going to say why this was odd or were you just going to leave it at that?" Malfoy asked after a moment's silence.

"Oh, uh, I was just going to say that it's weird. I mean the two of us sitting here together and not fighting or whatever." Harry said stumbling over his words.

"Eloquent as always, Potter." Malfoy said with no malice in his voice. He sounded almost…affectionate.

"Yeah, well," Harry said ducking his head in hopes of hiding his blush, Malfoy saw it anyway, but he didn't comment. The silence ensued until Harry broke it again.

"Why have you been avoiding me today?" He asked.

"I already told you, Potter," Malfoy said.

"No, you didn't. Not really." Harry countered. "All you said was you couldn't hit me. Which I still don't understand why you didn't, I mean, you obviously know that I wrote the letter…" he left off. Malfoy sighed.

"I avoided you because I couldn't hit you, and I couldn't hit you because…well I found the whole thing quite amusing actually and couldn't muster up enough anger to hit you. Alright?" He said. Harry looked at him.

"Really? You thought it was funny?" He asked.

"Yes, in fact, I was quite disappointed that Snape made me give him the letter. I wanted to read it myself. But if you tell anyone I will of course deny it." Malfoy said

"Of course," Harry echoed. Malfoy turned toward him.

"You think rather highly of your…how did you put it? Ah yes 'your perfect arse nestled upon that fortunate piece of wood'." Harry blushed again.

"Uh, ahem, actually, I had Ginny help me with that bit. I didn't really know what to say…" Harry explained rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well," Malfoy said, his eyes sparkling. Harry found himself smiling. He had never seen Malfoy this way. He seemed…happy and unguarded. "At any rate, Potter, I hope you do know that this calls for payback. And being a Slytherin as well as a Malfoy it is my sacred duty to answer that call." Harry paled a bit.

"Your not going to hex me are you?" He asked. Then Malfoy laughed. A true, honest-to- God laugh, one that lit up his whole face and made his eyes dance. And Harry's heart do flip-flops

"No, no, I am merely going to return the favor." He said and slid off the table. "We should finish up. I don't want to be here all night and Snape will be furious if we don't finish." Harry sighed loudly.

"Yeah, yeah," He grumbled.

"If you don't want to sweep anymore than you can begin to organize the cupboard," Malfoy called over his shoulder. Harry looked toward the small door in the corner of the room. Suddenly, the room began to spin and his legs were shaking. "Potter? Potter, are you alright?" Malfoy asked, but his voice was muffled, nearly drowned out by the rushing blood in Harry's ears.

Harry's mind was whirling with memories of his little cupboard under the stairs. All the times he was locked in with no food, the times he'd woken to a spider crawling on his face and the many, many times that the little door had been slammed in his face plunging him in utter darkness.

Darkness that very much resembled the little Potions cupboard in the corner. Though it was a much larger than his cupboard, Harry couldn't bring himself to go near it. He never could. In Potions it was always Ron or Hermione who gathered the ingredients.

Harry shook his head and turned away from the dank little cupboard. He realized then that Malfoy had a firm hold on his arms and that a pair of flashing grey eyes were mere inches from his own emerald green orbs.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?" Harry asked, trying to stay calm but his heart was desperately trying to escape his ribs. Malfoy suddenly let go of Harry and backed away.

"I wasn't doing anything, Potter," He snapped turning away and disappearing into the dark cupboard. Harry wanted to go after him, to ask him why he had been holding him and looking at him like that, but his fear stopped him. His fear of the cupboard as well as his fear of his own feelings for the blond boy.

_What is happening to me?_ He wondered as he bent down and picked up his discarded broom and set to work sweeping the dusty classroom. His thoughts chasing one another in his head leaving him feeling a bit nauseous.

Neither boy spoke for the rest of the evening. When they were finally finished (well after two in the morning) they parted ways at the door of the room in tense silence. Actually Harry was tense and Malfoy, as always, was silent.

"Goodnight, then," Harry whispered to the boy's retreating back before he went up to the Gryffindor Tower.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three: revenge is sweet**

Malfoy extracted his revenge the next day in Transfiguration. He didn't bother going through the whole (1) dragon and hippogriff show. Instead, he just opened a piece of parchment and began to read.

"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said, noticing immediately. "What are you doing?"

"Reading," Malfoy answered back not looking up from his letter.

"There is no note passing in this class. Give that here." The woman snapped and held open her hand. Malfoy looked up from his note at her.

"Do you really think I'd give it to you willingly?" He sneered folding the letter. McGonagall's face went red with anger.

"_Accio _note," She said pointing her wand and the piece of parchment flew out of Malfoy's hand and into hers. "Just for that back talk, I do believe I shall read it aloud."

"Oh no," Malfoy mocked. McGonagall glared at him before turning and going back to her desk at the front of the room.

"Alright," She said and began to read the letter.

"My dearest Draco," She looked up at Malfoy questioningly. He just shrugged.

"There's no doubt that the letter in Potions was false. I know that you did not write it. But I must confess, hearing such words that have your name to them left me in a state of euphoria.

Why, you may ask, did I feel this way?

Because I, like 'you' said in 'your' letter, have longed for you for years. I crave your presence and yearn for your touch. Oh, your touch. If you'd only touch me, I do believe I would surely die. My heart would explode from bliss and my skin would turn to liquid fire from sheer ecstasy.

You, my dear dragon, are like a sunset. You, like a sunset, are a seemingly common phenomena yet your mere existence and presence sets the sky ablaze. Your beauty holds me and captivates me. I cannot look away nor do I want to. I feel honoured just to be able to look upon you.

I cannot begin to describe you. No adjective could do you justice. No word is enough. All I have is all the adoration and longing in my heart and hope that you can see it though my eyes.

If only you were mine. I would be whole.

Forever yours,

Harry Potter." McGonagall looked up, her blue eyes swimming with tears. She gave both boys a maternal look. The tears leaked out of her eyes as she smiled. "Oh, look at me, what a silly woman I am." She said swiping away the tears and straightened up. "Detention for both of you, tonight at seven." She said and turned back to her lesson.

No one in the class was listening. They were not only stunned by the letter but that McGonagall had _cried_ and then given them detention.

Malfoy, to everyone else, not only looked pissed, and bit ill, but very irate. But on the inside he was smiling widely. Revenge was sweet. He chanced a glance to Harry. The black-haired boy had his head buried in his arms. His shoulders were shaking and the tips of his ears were the colour of an overripe tomato.

As if he could feel Malfoy's gaze, Harry looked up at the other boy. His face was equally as red as his ears and his glasses were askew but it was easy to see that they boy hadn't been crying or shaking with anger or embarrassment but that he had been _laughing_. Harry gave the boy a quick grin before hiding his face again.

Malfoy looked at him and shook his head. The exchange went unnoticed by everyone else in class but a certain clever little witch who watched with interested eyes.

XxXxX

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, I don't know what is going on between the two of you." Professor McGonagall said from behind her desk. Harry shifted uncomfortably, in his chair, under her intense gaze. "I've spoken to Professor Snape and he informs me of a similar incident just yesterday." The old woman glared between the two boys in front of her. "It is obvious that Mr. Malfoy has written the letter I read today and there's not doubt that you, Mr. Potter, wrote the other." She left off to glare at them some more. Neither boy looked up from the floor. "You are to do serve your detentions separately. Potter, you will go to the forest with Hagrid and Malfoy you are to clean the trophy room with Flitch. "

"Yes ma'am," the boys intoned.

"Good, now go," She ordered. Both boys rose from their seats and left the Transfiguration Professor's office.

"Well," Harry said turning around to face Malfoy. "Good Luck?"

"Good Luck," Malfoy said with a nod and then he smiled. A true, genuine smile and Harry found himself smiling back. Malfoy gave another nod, turned and walked down the corridor toward Flitch's office. Harry watched him go until he disappeared around a corner.

With a smile on his lips, Harry turned and went down the opposite corridor toward the Entrance Hall. His chest seemed to be buzzing and as he walked down the hall the buzzing became a hum and then it was a whistle. Neither boy noticed the bespectacled cat that slinked out of a dark alcove and slip into the office.

"What do you think?" Severus Snape asked as he stepped out of a dark corner of the office. The cat looked up at him and moments later it turned into a woman.

"I'm not sure," McGonagall responded.

"I, to, am baffled at this. I think more observation is needed." McGonagall turned around.

"Oh, Albus, I didn't know you were there."

"That's quite understandable, Minerva. I can be very stealthy when the need arises." The old Headmaster said smiling at the woman. His blue eyes twinkled merrily in the dark.

"Yes, well, back to the task at hand." Snape said uncomfortably.

"You are right, Severus. We must discuss what this could mean." Dumbledore said. He waved his wand and a flowery and fluffy armchair appeared before him. "Let's have some tea while we talk." He said with another wave of his wand and a table appeared with all the things needed for tea.

The other two adults conjured up their own chairs and sat around the table.

"What do you think this could mean, Albus?" McGonagall asked.

"Well, if my suspicions are correct, than I do believe that history might just repeat it's self." The old man said.

"You don't mean…" McGonagall said.

"That's exactly what I mean." Dumbledore said. McGonagall shared a look with Snape.

"Oh bugger," Snape groaned.

"Hmm, quite," The headmaster mumbled as he spread jelly on a piece of toast.

All this was watched by a very bewildered and confused pair of chocolate brown eyes.

XxXxX

The next day, Draco was struggling to keep awake in History of Magic when a note tapped his ankle. He looked around quickly to be sure no one was looking before he bent down and scooped up the note.

Draco opened it quietly though he wasn't sure why. Binns wouldn't know if a nuclear bomb went off and most of the class was in such a stupor that if he suddenly jumped up and ran around naked no one would notice.

The note said;

_Hey Sunshine,_

_First off, what do you think of the nickname? I think it suits you, you with your sunset beauty. _

_Heehee and you call me vain. You're a fine one to talk. Did you spend hours in front of an enchanted mirror to try and think of a way to describe yourself you great big (2) pilliock? Or did you just piece together the praise of your many conquests over the years?_

_Don't think I am criticizing. It was a good letter. Very enticing. I wonder what it'd be like to for someone to receive a genuine love letter from you. You do have a way with words. Compensating for something?_

_No, don't tell me. I shall leave that to my imagination and let's just say I have a big imagination. wink wink. _

_Yours,_

_H. Potter_

Draco covered his mouth as he read the note to keep from laughing. Once he was finished he looked around the room. He was puzzled as to how the letter had come to him. The Slytherins had History with Ravenclaw.

Deciding that he really didn't care Draco shrugged it off and took out a piece of parchment and wrote a response. While doing so he also ignored the voice in the back of his head, which sounded very much like his father, which asked him why he was doing this…whatever it was, with Potter. Once again, Draco decided he didn't care and shrugged it off.

XxXxX

"Harry, why are you continuing this…what ever it is with Malfoy? You never told me what happened between you two in detention. Did he say something? And that letter…well I just don't understand." Hermione said as she walked beside Harry and Ron on their way to Charms.

"It's just a bit of fun, Hermione. And I am not _really_ continuing with the prank. It's just a note to Malfoy. Nothing to worry about." Harry told his friend. After his detention with Hagrid (and his bath due to the lovely swamp they had ran into, remains of Fred and George's flight the previous year) Harry had immediately sat down to write his note to Malfoy.

He wasn't sure why he did it, but it seemed like a good idea. He had wanted to talk to Malfoy about his letter as they had talked about his but the separate detentions made it difficult. It was just a harmless little note. Just a joke. It didn't mean anything.

And as he walked toward class he tried to convince Hermione of this.

"I don't know, Harry. I have a feeling that something more is going on here." Hermione said with concern.

"Hermione, it's just fun. That's all." Harry said getting a bit annoyed. "I'll catch up with you guys later," Harry said and slipped off down another corridor.

"Something's up with him." Hermione said more to herself that to the oblivious red-head next to her.

Harry quickly made his way down the corridor to the History of Magic classroom. He stood on his tip-toes to peer into the room. Though it was only five minutes into the class period the class looked dead to the world.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the head of white-blond hair that was, thank Merlin, sitting at the table closet to the door. Harry shoved a folded piece of parchment under the door. Then, pointing his wand, he sent the note skidding over to Malfoy were it proceeded to tap his ankle.

Harry watched as he looked around as he picked up the note. He really wanted to stay and watch him read it but he was already late to class as it was and he really didn't want detention again.

Harry took off down the hall and made it to the Charms classroom in record time.

"Mr. Potter, ten points for being late. Take your seat." Professor Fitwick said looking at the black-haired teen with disappointment.

XxXxX

That afternoon at lunch, a regal eagle owl landed on the Gryffindor table right in front of Harry and succeeding in knocking over his pumpkin juice.

"Bugger!" Harry shouted as the icy liquid fell into his lap and soaking his trousers, chilling the sensitive skin of his thigh. Harry grabbed a napkin off the table and began to scrub at the wet spot. Once it was relatively dry, he threw the napkin on the table and sat back down. "Malfoy's owl," he muttered to himself as he leaned forward and untied the note from its leg.

The owl hooted reproachfully at him before grabbing the meat out of his sandwich and flying off. His eyes met with Malfoy's and the blond smirked at him. The smirk, despite how Harry was feeling about the other boy during the last few days, was still infuriating and caused Harry's blood to boil.

"Like Master, like bird," Harry grumbled.

"Who's it from?" Hermione asked curiously on Harry's right.

"Malfoy. Must be responding to my letter. I asked him a few questions." Harry explained hurriedly. Hermione tried to catch Ron's eye but he was more interested in his plate of food to notice. Harry began to read his letter.

_Sugerbum,_

Harry had to bite back a laugh at the nickname and all his ill feelings toward the blond and his owl faded.

_I hope that name is sufficient enough for your perfect arse. If not, well I am a Slytherin and I really don't care either way._

_Your comment about my many conquests has left me to wonder if out fair Gryffindor is jealous. No worries, baby, at the moment there are none, well unless you count Pansy which I never do. It is just a fact that I am devastatingly handsome. _

_It is the way Nature intended it. I was made to be gorgeous and everyone else was made to pine for me and praise Its handiwork. It's just the way of things. _

_But I must admit that it was difficult to write about oneself. I did have help but my source shall remain nameless. They are of no consequence. _

_As for my being a pilliock, I do believe you are a fine one to talk, Potter. I have heard of _your _many exploits in the Astronomy Tower. As well as under the Quidditch stands, in McGonagall's classroom and in several broom cupboards throughout the school. _

_Though, I too have had my romps. As for the love letter, I don't believe I have ever written one for anybody. It is my experience that love is always over in the morning. Ah, look at me; I do believe I shall end that topic right there. _

_Until next time,_

_D. Malfoy_

Harry shook his head as he read the letter. Malfoy really was a vain little peacock but for some reason Harry didn't find it as annoying as he use to. It seemed…endearing now. Harry shook that thought out of his head. Oh well, time for class.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

(An: (1) Wizarding equivalent of dog and pony show.

(2) A pilliock means 'rouge' but in a fond way.

I LOVE THE NICKNAME SUGARBUM! It leaves me in stitches all the time.

I tried to appeal to McG's feminine side but keep her in character. And I KNOW Draco is a little shit in this chapter but once again, keeping with character)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four: a bit of fun?

"Draco!" Blaise Zambini called after the blonde as he made his way through the dungeon corridors. Draco turned to meet the black-haired boy.

"Blaise," He greeted when the other boy stopped in front of him.

"What the hell was that with Potter?" Blaise said. Draco smiled serenely.

"Blaise, darling, I know you like to think you're my father but your really not. And though we work together, you are not my husband or in any position at all to tell me what to do." Draco said coolly.

Blaise's chocolate brown eyes hardened.

"I once held some sway with your decisions." The boy said softly.

"You still do, Blaise. You know that." The blonde crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "Look, it's just a game. A bit of fun."

"It won't be so fun when your father finds out." Blaise said his voice harsh. Draco narrowed his eyes.

"He won't find out, will he?" He said his voice low and dangerous letting Blaise know that if he even thought-

"I wouldn't tell. You know I wouldn't." Blaise said softly. "I didn't track you down to fight with you. I just think this whole thing is folly. But obviously you are going to do it no matter what I say."

"Obviously," Draco agreed with an incline of his head.

"Look, Draco, I know you have a thing for Potter-"Blaise started.

"A thing? I do not have a _thing _for Potter," Draco sputtered indignantly. Blaise nodded solemnly, not believing a word.

"Just be careful. War is coming and things have changed."

"No one knows that better than I, Blaise." Draco replied softly, his eyes showing that he appreciated the other boy's concern. Blaise nodded in acknowledgement.

"Alright then." He said and headed off down the corridor.

Draco sighed and continued on his way down the corridor after Blaise. It was time for class.

XxXxX

Harry rubbed the feather of his quill under his chin and across his jaw. He was suffering from writer's block. Well, actually that wasn't true. There was a lot he could write and wanted to write he just didn't know if it was…appropriate. Not to say what he was thinking was dirty. No, the problem was that what he wanted to say was too…intimate. Once again, not dirty, just not something he was sure one would write to his enemy about.

Deciding that all this thought was making his head hurt, not to mention that one wouldn't be writing to their enemy in the first place, Harry grabbed a piece of parchment and proceed to write.

XxXxX

It was at dinner that a snowy white owl swooped down and landed on Draco's plate. The owl looked at him as if she'd like nothing more than to shit on him. Draco quickly untied the letter from its leg and gestured to the plate.

"Help yourself," He said. The owl still looked wary of him but flew off with a piece of chicken in its beak. Draco didn't notice, he was much more concerned with opening the letter. Besides, he hadn't been eating anyway. The food on his plate was only to appease Blaise, though he really only been pushing it around and making castles out of his mashed potatoes. How uncivilized.

_Malfoy,_

What, no cutesy nickname?

_So when you say that there are no girls at the moment except for Pansy, what's that mean? Are you dating Pansy? Or just shagging her? Acquiring minds want to know. _

_I have trouble thinking you're dating her, or anyone. Have you ever dated anyone? You are much too much of a rouge to ever limit yourself to just one girl. You, with your naturally good looks, could not be bothered to be tied down._

_Is that why you have such a cynical outlook on love? What does that mean anyway, 'Love is always over in the morning'? _

_As for all my 'exploits', all lies I assure you. I look for something more meaningful from my partners than a quickie in a dank classroom._

_Well, Sprout is coming this way and I have not even touched my _ brutto albero,_ which just sounds naughty, anyway must go._

_H. Potter_

Draco had no trouble not laughing during this letter. Actually, it was taking all his willpower not to crumble to letter into a ball and chuck it at Harry Potter's Big Fat Stupid Head!

_How dare he say such things about me! He knows nothing of my life, who is he to judge me! _Draco thought. Without a word Draco stood up and stormed out of the Great Hall, ignoring Blaise's questions.

Draco stomped his way through the corridors to the entrance of the Slytherin Common Room. He shouted the password and marched to the sixth year boy's dorm.

Once in his room, Draco immediately pulled out parchment, ink, a quill and his portable writing desk. He wrote furiously for a few minutes before waving the parchment around and blowing on it so that the ink would dry faster.

Draco, than gave a short, shrill whistle and within minutes the piece of parchment was tied around his eagle owl, Ares's leg and the owl was on his way to the Great Hall.

XxXxX

Harry had watched Malfoy storm out of the Great Hall and was a bit surprised. He wondered what had happened to cause the boy to just leave. If it had been a year ago, Harry would've sought out the culprit to congratulate him. But now, with Malfoy's normal melancholy attitude, to see him all worked up left Harry feeling…strange.

Harry shrugged off the feeling and returned to his food. He took a bite of his sandwich, forgetting the theft of his (1) meat. As he chewed the mayo-coated bread, Malfoy's owl once again swooped into the Hall and headed toward Harry.

Harry quickly grabbed his goblet out of the way so the owl couldn't knock it over. When it landed the owl seemed a bit miffed by this but stuck out its leg, just the same. Harry took the letter from the owl that nipped viciously at his finger before taking off.

"Stupid blighter," He mumbled nursing his injured finger. Harry opened the letter and began to read.

_Potter,_

_I know that I have been a right prat over the years. I am not denying that nor am I apologizing, but as I sit here and run through all the things I have done or said, nothing comes to mind that warrants such slurs against my character._

_What, exactly, do you think gives you the right to say such things. Who do you think you are? You do not know me. You do not know anything about me or my life. My outlook on love is my business. And my activity outside of the classroom is none of yours. You have no right to say such things. I do not know what this is between us but I think it should end. _

_I have nothing to say to you and will not stand for your judgmental attacks._

_Sincerely,_

_D. Malfoy_

_P.S Only you, Potter, could find a _brutto albero _naughty. The words are Italian for ugly tree. Pervert._

Harry read the letter and was stunned. He hadn't thought that he was insulting Malfoy with his questions but he supposed he could see how that would seem likely. He had felt a bit…bitter and snarky, as he penned the words, especially those about Pansy. Why he had felt that way…he wasn't going to even try to sort out why. But now he felt horrible. Malfoy was right; he didn't know him or what was going on in his life. And he had no right to act as if he did.

It seemed that Malfoy was going through enough and Harry just couldn't kick him when he was down. He wasn't a Slytherin, after all. Harry didn't know what to do.

"Hermione?" He asked rather sheepishly.

"Yes, Harry?" She said looking up from her textbook that seemed to be attached to her hand.

Harry than proceeded to tell Hermione about everything that had happened since the prank letter he wrote. He told her about the detention, about his letter to Malfoy and the blonde's reply. He told her about his response and he let her read the letter he had just received from Malfoy.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said in a voice that told the black-haired boy that he had screwed up.

"What?" Harry asked totally oblivious. Hermione gave him a look that told him he was pathetic.

"You basically called the boy a slut, _and_ judged him without any grounds to do so." She said. Harry opened his mouth to reply but Hermione held up a hand and silenced him. "Harry, I don't know what is going on with you and Malfoy. But if your serious about being friends with him or whatever than you have some serious apologizing to do." Harry looked at her miserably.

"Yeah, alright," he said before getting up from the table.

"Where you going, mate?" Ron asked. Harry was a bit startled to find him there. He hadn't noticed but it would seem that his friend was completely oblivious to what was going on around him.

"I'm not feeling well; I'm going to lie down." Harry mumbled. Ron nodded. If Harry had been in his right mind he would've noticed Ron's oddly compliant behaviour and the mischievous gleam in his blue eyes. But Harry wasn't in his right mind and didn't think he had been since he wrote that damned prank love letter.

Once in his dorm, Harry sat down on his bed with a piece of parchment and a book to write on. He had no idea what to write. He sat there in contemplative silence before he began to write slowly.

Once he was done he re-read it before he rolled it up and tied it with a ribbon. Placing it on his bedside table along with his wand and glasses, Harry decided to send it off tomorrow morning. He was suddenly overcome with exhaustion, even though it was only a quarter till eight. Harry rolled over and was instantly asleep.

XxXxX

Draco Malfoy was livid. Or at least he wanted to be. After he sent his letter to Potter, Draco suddenly felt very weak. He slumped back against his pillows.

"What have I done?" He wondered aloud before he buried his head in his hands. Draco, for the first time in a long time, hadn't felt empty or dead. There was always something about Potter that made him feel alive. Whether it was the fights or…something more.

But when he came back for his sixth year at Hogwarts, Draco didn't feel alive, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. He felt cold and empty inside and a small voice in the back of his head told him that, that was what he deserved.

He had succumbed to his horrid yet inevitable fate. That was until Potter wrote that letter. It wasn't so much that Draco found it horribly amusing, it was just that, as corny as it sounds, Draco hadn't been forgotten.

Most in his house, save Blaise, hadn't noticed his behaviour or didn't care. Draco had felt himself drifting away from reality. He felt like an outsider looking in. And he was sure that he had been forgotten.

But the letter, even if it was a prank on him and made him out to be some Potter-head, sent a clear message to Draco. Straight to his heart. And it said 'I haven't forgotten you.' Draco had been so relieved that he let himself get caught up in…whatever it is that they had been doing.

He felt more like his old self in the last couple days than he had since the end of last year. And, as was Draco's way, he ruined it all by his temper.

Draco groaned and flung himself on his bed. Why, oh, why did he have to send that letter? Why did he do something so rash and emotional? Malfoys were _never_ rash or emotional. Potter was sure to never want to speak to him again. Then what was Draco going to do? Now that he looked back at his life for the last several months, he didn't want to go back to that and he didn't know if he could.

Draco didn't want to continue to live in self-induced exile, where only Blaise seemed to notice something was up and/or cared. Pansy was too fixated on what Draco's bum looked like and was upset that he wasn't in the mood to shag. Crabbe and Goyle were too stupid to notice anything. Nott just plain didn't care and the other Slytherins, older or younger, thought it was none of their business, which it wasn't.

The only person the seemed to care other than Blaise was Potter. But Draco had gone and screwed that up.

"Hell and Damnation!" He shouted, angry at himself. Why did he have to have such a temper? Why did he have to get all hurt over what Potter wrote?

_Maybe it's for the best._ Draco thought to himself. He knew that this thing with Potter would lead to danger. But damn it all, Draco didn't want it to end.

Draco tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. He was worried and confused and his brain was working in overdrive.

_Maybe it will all be better tomorrow_ he conceded as he succumbed to a light sleep near dawn.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

(An: (1) that sound dirty. I love the Blaise/Draco bff relationship. I got the whole 'love is always over in the morning' from another fic, who in turn got it from another so...yeah. I also love Draco's owl being a jerk to Harry. And I got Draco's curse 'hell and damnation' from a book and I like it and thing it's sophisticated like Draco and is like medivally time period and I ways think of Draco as a medieval aristocrat type of upbringing and person.)


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five: Hermione knows all**

"Hermione," Remus Lupin's head spoke from the fire.

"Professor Lupin, how good to see you." Hermione said happily, kneeling on the hearth.

"Hermione, how many times have I told you? Call me Remus, or Moony." The man said kindly.

"(1) At least once more, as always Professor," Hermione said. Remus chuckled.

"Well on to business. What's this you want to know about a letter I wrote Padfoot?" He asked.

"Well, Pro-"Hermione started but corrected herself at a look from Remus, "Remus, Harry was telling us about a prank you played on Padfoot. He said that you wrote a…sort of love letter from him to yourself and managed to get it read aloud in class."

Remus got a faraway look on his face and smiled.

"Ah, yes I remember that. I told Harry about that over the summer." His amber eyes than refocused, "Why do you ask?"

"Well," Hermione blushed, "I was just wondering what, exactly, you told him. He hasn't told us the whole story and you know how curious I can be."

"Ah," Remus said, giving her a knowing look. "Well, Harry was asking after our pranks back in the day. I told him that it was a prank that got me and Sirius together-"Remus stopped as Hermione began to cough wildly. "Are you ok, my dear?"

"I'm…fine. Did you just say that you and Sirius were…together?" She asked staring at the head in the fire. If he wasn't a flaming head, Remus's cheeks would be on fire.

"Erm, yes, Padfoot and I were…an item." The man said, embarrassedly.

"Oh, uh, continue than." Hermione said a bit dumbfounded. How did she not know that?

"Ahem, as I was saying. I told Harry about a prank that got me and Padfoot together. James always teased us mercilessly for it too. He said that we were true Marauders, falling in love through a prank." Remus shook his head fondly. "Anyway, the prank was the 'love' letter." Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah, but how did it get you two, together?" She asked.

"Well, as it would seem, Padfoot and I had always had a…special connection. One that neither Prongs nor Wormtail could quite understand. We hardly understood it ourselves. Until the prank. I guess the letter just opened up channels of communication. After the prank he was able to be freer with telling me how he felt, with the pretense that it was all a joke. But then the jokes got more serious and he began to talk about love. Then I knew that it wasn't all a joke to me and I told him so, and he said that he loved me that he always had. The rest is history." Remus said with a dreamy voice.

Hermione got all misty-eyed, as young ladies tend to do when they hear a romantic story of young love.

"Wow," She whispered, and then everything seemed to click. Harry, Malfoy, the letters. It all seemed to make sense now. "Holy Shit!" She exclaimed.

"Excuse me?" Remus asked from the fire, confused as to why the girl had gone from starry-eyed romantic to cursing harpy.

"Sorry, Professor, thanks for the help, I gotta go." She said in a rush before running off.

"But- what- wait!" Remus called but the girl was already gone. "Teens." He mumbled before pulling out of the fire.

XxXxX

Draco looked awful the next morning, as Blaise proceeded to tell him, _ad nauseum_.

"Did you sleep at all?" Blaise questioned his friend who was staring dejectedly at the floor. Draco didn't respond he didn't look up; he didn't do anything but stare at the floor and walk toward the Great Hall. Blaise sighed in irritation. "Draco, this isn't good for you. You need to sleep." He began his usually lecture as the pair sat at the end of the Slytherin table. "And eat," He said, placing pancakes, eggs, toast, bacon, and sausage on to the plate in front of the blond.

Draco didn't even acknowledge the other boy. He just picked up a fork and poked at his egg. He watched as the membrane around the yellow center was punctured and the yoke came spilling out looking like yellow blood.

Blood. Draco has seen so much blood in his young life.

"Stop it," Blaise hissed at him. Draco looked up. He knew what Blaise meant. Whenever Draco let his mind drift in the direction it was just going, bad things happened.

"I don't know what you are talking about." Draco said stiffly. Blaise narrowed his eyes at him.

"Don't do this, Draco. Don't do this to yourself, anymore." Blaise said. Draco wanted to scoff at him, or sneer, or roll his eyes or something, anything other than what he did. Draco gave him a watery but grateful look. Father would be so disappointed. Malfoy's don't tear up. Especially not over something like that. But Blaise didn't seem to mind. "Just eat some toast." He muttered.

The two sat in silence. Ever since Draco came back from the summer he had been reclusive and stand-offish. Most of his 'friends' had gotten fed up with his attitude and had taken to shunning him. Blaise, however, seemed genuinely worried and caring. He did his best to try and get Draco to open up, or, at the very least, to eat and sleep.

A few minutes later, the Great Hall erupted with life as swarms of owls swooped into the Hall. Draco, despite himself, found that he was searching for a glimpse of either Ares, or Potter's own owl. His heart leapt as he spotted a flash of white amongst the sea of brown.

The owl swooped down and landed before him. Draco's fingers trembled as he leaned forward to untie a package from the owl's leg.

"Help yourself," Draco said pushing his plate toward her. The owl hooted in thanks before grabbing a sausage and flying off.

"Potter?" Blaise asked. Draco nodded, all the while his eyes never leaving the package. He couldn't for the life of him think of what it was that Potter had sent him, not to mention, why he would after that horrible note he had written him. "Well open it, you ponce." Blaise said good-naturedly.

Draco didn't need telling twice. He quickly tore away the brown parchment that covered the box. Inside was a box of white chocolates. Attached to the front of the box was a folded piece of parchment.

Draco pulled off the parchment and set the box on the table where it was quickly snatched up by Blaise who took to inspecting it and opening it. But Draco didn't mind. He was too involved in what Potter had to say.

_Malfoy,_

_Look, I am really sorry about what I said. I didn't mean to insult you or judge you. I thought it was just fun. Not to say that insulting you is fun or anything. Well, I mean it use to be fun. But that was before…I am really making a mess of this apology, aren't I?_

_I just want to forget about that letter. It was stupid and inconsiderate of me. I never should have pretended like I knew anything about you. _

_I want to continue writing to you. Merlin, help me, but I do. I look forward to your letters. Your wit is much more appreciated when you're not using it against me._

_So what do you say? Please?_

_Waiting,_

_Harry_

_P.S. You know _Italian?!

Draco was shocked. He hadn't expected Potter to write back, let alone apologize. He looked up at Blaise.

"You know my opinion on this whole thing." The other boy said holding up his hands. Draco's face fell. Blaise sighed and leaned forward, placing a hand over Draco's. "Look, I know you like Potter, I do." He held up a hand to fend off Draco' protest, "And it would seem that he likes you too-"

"How do you know that?" Draco asked. Blaise lifted up the box of chocolate with his other hand.

"It's your favourite." He said as if that said everything. "But, this thing is dangerous, Draco. If your father found out, he would not be happy. You know I wouldn't tell him but he has plenty of spies here." He mumbled indicating the rest of the Slytherins. "We are in the snake pit, and they'd do anything for a bit of power." Draco swallowed hard and nodded.

"I hate seeing you like this." Blaise said with a bit of anger in his voice.

"What should I do?" Draco asked, crestfallen. Blaise gave him a hard, calculating look.

"I say, write him back." Draco's head snapped up. "But be sure to keep it at no more than a friendly level, and do be more conspicuous." Blaise said with a hint of humor. "But you have to know that if you go too far with Potter, if you pass that line, you can't go back." His brown eyes were hard and serious. Draco nodded. He knew that. He knew that if he let himself get too involved with Potter than there was no way he'd be able to go back to the life he had before. The whole thing has already affected him in a way he had never thought possible.

"Alright," Draco said softly. He spent the rest of breakfast in thought and being nearly force-feed the chocolates Potter had given him.

XxXxX

"What the hell?" Harry wondered aloud as his owl, Hedwig, flew into the Hall with a package tied to her leg. His confusion deepened when she landed in front of Malfoy.

"Oh, Harry. You bought him a gift. That's good thinking." Hermione said proudly. Harry looked at her in open-mouth shock.

"But I didn't-"He started to say but was interrupted by Ron.

"Didn't what Harry?" Ron asked loudly. Harry swallowed hard and looked a bit sheepish for forgetting about Ron who was sitting across from him.

"Uh, I didn't…know that there was an essay assigned in Potions." Harry said thinking quickly.

"Oh, yeah." Ron said nodding and shoved a bite of pancake in his mouth.

Harry than turned his gaze back to Malfoy. He smiled subconsciously as the blonde's grey eyes lit up and a smile graced his pink lips as he read Harry's letter, or he assumed it was his letter.

His smile, however, faded when he saw Malfoy's face fall and it looked as if someone just ran over his puppy. Harry felt righteous anger flood through him at Zabini. He knew that the git was saying something to Malfoy that was upsetting him.

Harry was so involved in watching the two Slytherins that he didn't notice Hermione's knowing look or Ron's smirk.

XxXxX

"I believe there will be no interruptions." Snape said glaring at Draco and Potter in turn. "Good,' he said, satisfied. "Today will be a practical lesson; you will work individually and quietly. Open your books to page 70."

The class period was rather dull. The potion was simple and Draco finished well before the end of class. He took the free time to write Potter back. He still wasn't sure what to write but his writer instincts set in the moment his quill touched the parchment, and what started out as a letter to Potter became a poem.

Draco had been writing poetry and short-stories for years. When he was younger he found it was a good way to let his overactive imagination run wild without getting in trouble. Draco had always told stories and his parents often punished him for telling falsehoods.

So, Draco took to writing it all down. As he grew into an angsty teen, he found that poetry was a good way to vent. All his emotions that he was forced to repress and all the pain that he tried to ignore was able to spill out and could easily be hidden away.

No one knew of Draco's hobby and he didn't plan on telling anyone. Whenever you told someone that you liked to write or draw or whatever it is that you do, they always want to see something. There was no way Draco was going to show his poetry to anyone. It was too personal and intimate and definitely not something a Malfoy would write. He felt his poetry was a window into his soul, and just the fact that he did, indeed, have a soul would be enough to shock most people, not to mention what it said.

Once finished with his poem, Draco looked up and over at Potter. His face was red and his untamable raven locks were even wilder. He seemed to be having trouble with his potion.

Suddenly, Draco felt an urge to go over and help him. He quickly repressed it.

_Where the hell did that come from?_ He wondered to himself. He had watched Potter screw up many potions and never once had he felt the need to help or to do anything really than to laugh and taunt him. But now, Draco found himself staring intently at the boy as he reached for the crushed up beetles and tried to telepathically tell him that they need to be added _after_ the mandrake root.

It seems that Draco isn't the as good at Occulmency as his Godfather and Potter dumped in the beetles resulting in his potion turning a vibrant pink instead of the pale blue it should be at this stage.

Potter growled in frustration and flipped through the pages of his book to see where he went wrong. His eyes widened as he read the passage that said that the mandrake root was to be added before the beetles. Draco shook his head.

_Told ya so_, He thought, directed at Potter. Potter huffed and tossed in the mandrake root anyway.

"NO!" Draco shouted before he thought about what he was saying, or doing for that matter, seeing as he was suddenly out of his seat and tackling the black-haired boy to the ground and trying to cover them both with his robes.

"Malfoy what the-"Potter started to say but was cut off by a loud explosion. Potter's potion exploded, sending the now, florescent green and foul-smelling potion all over Draco's robe and the surrounding area.

Luckily, the other students were smart enough to get well out of the way of the flying potion. When the explosion ended Draco got up quickly.

"You stupid wanker!" He shouted.

"Wha-"Potter tried to say but Draco interrupted him.

"No, don't speak. You will lower my intelligence with your pathetic excuses." Draco snapped. Potter's face began to redden. "What the hell were you think? Are you really that stupid?" Draco ranted. Potter opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by Draco once again. "Do you honestly not know that mandrake root is a very volatile substance and _must_ be added when instructed? That stuff you've created is dangerous. The fumes alone could put someone in a comatose state but if it were to have gotten on you, your skin would've been melted. Or burned significantly."

"Well how was I supposed to know?" Potter snapped, defensively. Draco growled in frustration. He grabbed Potter's potion text off the table and dropped it onto the boy's stomach.

"Oof," Potter said as the book knocked most of the air out of his lungs.

"Read the damn book. You might learn something." The blond said. He then turned to their professor who had been watching the whole thing. "Professor, it would seem I need to go to the Hospital Wing." Draco said holding up his arm which hadn't been covered by the robe. The usually pale skin was now red and blistering. Luckily, only a small amount of the potion had landed on it.

"Damn it," Snape cursed as he rushed forward. "Class dismissed, Potter, you come with me." He ordered before leading Draco out of the room with Potter in tow.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

(An: (1) This is what Elizabeth Swan tells Will Turner in Pirates of the Caribbean. I just love when Draco rants. It's so fun!)


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six: Unthinkable truths**

Harry felt horrible. Could things go any worse? All he wanted was to try and get Malfoy to be like his old self so that Harry could stop worrying and then wonder why he was worried and then get himself all confused and wrapped up in odd emotions that he shouldn't have for his enemy and make his head hurt. Was that to much to ask?

It would seem so.

In the last two days he had insulted Malfoy's character, though one would wonder why that was a big deal since Malfoy's character is a prat but than again being a prat and a slut are two different things and Harry could understand the other boy's anger, and now, if that weren't enough, Harry has caused the boy to be burned.

The walk to the Infirmary was spent in uncomfortable, stony silence. Actually, Harry was uncomfortable and kept murmuring apologies and stuttering answers. Snape was stony and lectured Harry the whole way, stopping in his lecture every now and then to ask what the boy had been thinking and was he really that stupid and making a slur or two against Harry's father and godfather, and Malfoy, as always, was silent.

The blond just cradled his injured arm and seemed to be more focused on putting one foot in the other than in berating Harry or to enjoy Snape's comments.

Once they reached the Hospital Wing, Harry was sent to get Madame Pomfrey from her office. As soon as she came out, she clucked her tongue in sympathy and set to work on healing the boy.

"Oh you poor, poor boy. Potion burns are the worse." She said as she preformed several spells on the injury. Twenty minutes later she announced she was done.

The injury still looked horrible, it was an angry red and looked very painful but at least the blisters weren't as large and no puss was leaking from them.

"That's the best I can do, dearie. Magical injures cannot be healed all the way by magic. You'll just have to wait and let your body do the work. All I can do is give you something for the pain and make you as comfortable as possible." She said looking sadly at him.

"How long until it heals?" Snape asked, Malfoy said nothing.

"I'd like to keep him for at least the rest of the week and the weekend," Pomfrey said.

"Three days?" Malfoy spoke up, his voice emotionless. "And it's a Hogsmeade weekend."

"I know, but if you don't rest, your body can't heal itself and it might get infected." The mediwitch said, her wrinkled face showing absolute pity.

"Alright," Malfoy said softly looking away from the woman. The room was quite as the other three occupants looked at the blond. Finally, Harry spoke up.

"I'll stay with him," He said. Malfoy's head snapped back to Harry.

"What?" He asked incredulously.

"I'll stay with you," Harry said setting his chin in a definite stance.

"No, you really don't have to-," Malfoy tried to say but Snape interrupted him.

"That's a great idea, Potter, seeing as this is all your fault. You will not leave Mr. Malfoy's side. You will give him whatever he wants and be sure that he has his homework. I will inform your teachers that you will not be at class tomorrow." Snape said with a decisive nod before sweeping out of the room, successful killing any protest Malfoy might've made.

Madame Pomfrey looked between the boys with trepidation. She, of course, had heard of the recent 'changes' in the boy's behaviour but she was still nervous about leaving them alone. Then a Hufflepuff came in with a bloody nose.

"Oh, damn," She muttered. "Mr. Potter, please go and get your and Mr. Malfoy's school things." She said thinking quickly. Harry turned his eyes away from Malfoy; they seemed to have been engaged in a staring contest.

"What?" He asked.

"Go get your things from Professor Snape's classroom. You wouldn't want them to be taken do you?" She asked sending the boy a look that told him if he didn't leave now then she'd levitate him out.

"Alright, I'll be right back." He said the last part to Malfoy who just shrugged indifferently.

Harry rushed out of the Hospital wing and made it to the dungeons in record time. He went into the classroom, ignoring Snape's glare and his friend's questions. Harry quickly gathered up his things and shoved them in his bag, then went over to Malfoy's seat.

Malfoy's things were all laid out neatly. His ingredients were all packed away in his kit, his quill, inkwell and parchment were to the right of the cauldron and his book was still in his bag. Malfoy, of course, being the potions savant that he was, didn't need instructions to brew such a simple potion.

"What are you doing with Draco's stuff? Where is he?" Zabini hissed at him. Harry ignored the boy and turned to leave. Zabini reached out and grabbed the strap of Malfoy's bag, stopping him. Harry whirled around, his green eyes blazing. He didn't want to leave Malfoy alone. Zabini seemed to sense that. "You be good to him. He's had enough pain." He said, handing Harry a piece of parchment that was covered in Malfoy's neat script. Harry was confused but he took the parchment and left.

XxXxX

As soon as Potter left, Malfoy let his mask of cool indifference slip and his fine features contorted in pain. When the boy let out a low hiss of breath, Poppy seemed to awake from her trance.

Malfoy was acting odd to say the least. The boy had nearly threw a fit over a scratch from a hippogriff and yet, when he had the perfect reason to be screaming like a banshee, he didn't so much as bite his lip until Potter left the room. Curious, very curious. The only conclusion Poppy could come to was that for some reason, Draco Malfoy did not want the pity of Harry Potter, nor, it would seem, anyone else for that matter, at least, not any more.

"Sorry, dear," She apologized as she walked over to the boy. She gave him some pain reliever potion. "It'll take a few minutes for it to work, but when it does you'll be a little loopy and drowsy."

Malfoy nodded and took the potion. Poppy then turned from him to assist the Hufflepuff with a quick healing charm. She turned her attention back to Malfoy just as Potter came back in.

"I'm back." He announced.

"Ah, the saviour has cometh. Let's all bow down in praise." Malfoy spat. Poppy was once again glad that she had a sanctity spell over the Hospital Wing so the boys would be unable to fight.

"Shut it, Malfoy. You're really making me regret agreeing to stay with you." Potter snapped.

"Oh, you know you just want to be able to take advantage of me in my weakened state." Malfoy said, humour gleaming in his eyes. Potter didn't seem to catch on.

"You wish. I am not bent and if I were it would definitely not be for you." He said coolly, but Pomfrey could see the amusement in his eyes as well. Maybe Potter isn't as oblivious as he seems.

"Whatever makes you sleep better at night." Malfoy responded.

"Oh, I dunno, I do believe a long night of 'Malfoy-violating' will chase away the bedbugs." Potter replied with a thoughtful look. Malfoy looked at him in shock before he began to laugh.

"I have to admit, Potter, that was a good one." Malfoy said with a smile.

"Yeah, well," Potter said looking embarrassed by the praise. Poppy resisted the urge to coo affectionately at the adorable boy. Potter has always been so uncomfortable about compliments. It would be endearing if she didn't know about his horrid childhood where he was degraded and locked in a cupboard for eleven years.

With one last matronly look at the two, Poppy turned her back on them and went to her office. Maybe the rumours of their new relationship were true.

XxXxX

"Thank-you," Potter said softly once they were alone. Draco's head snapped up.

"W-what did you say?" He couldn't have possibly have heard him right. Could he?

"Um, I said thank-thank-you," He repeated, his cheeks flaming. "You know, for the thing in Potions and all."

"Oh," Draco said.

"Its just-just that if you hadn't done…that than I would've…y'know…died." Potter said shifting uncomfortably.

"And a mandrake root would've succeeded where the Dark Lord has failed so many times." Draco said with a small smile. Potter returned the smile nervously.

"Uh, why-why did you do it?" He questioned.

"What?" Draco asked. His head was feeling fuzzy and his thoughts were sluggish. He felt like he was drunk but not as light-headed.

"I asked why you did that." Potter repeated, more confident.

"Because you're the Boy-Who-lived. The Wizarding World's only chance in the war against the Dark Lord." Draco said as if it were obvious, his brain not registering the words that were coming out of his mouth.

"Uh, yeah but you're father is a Death Eater. He's on Voldemort's side." Potter said incredulously.

"Yes, _he _is. " Draco mumbled.

"Malfoy, what does that mean?" Potter asked. Draco looked at him and then it hit him what he had been saying. He clamped his mouth shut. "Malfoy, what are you saying? Are you switching sides?" Potter asked hurriedly. The potion seemed to loosen Draco's tongue.

"Of course not, Potter." He said rolling his eyes. "But that doesn't mean I want that psycho to win." The blond said the last bit through a big yawn.

"That-that makes no sense, Malfoy." Potter said dubiously.

"Mmm, I'm just tired, Potter." He said softly as he snuggled into his pillows. "I'm just so tired of trying to be someone I'm not." Potter's head snapped up at that.

"And who's that?" He asked quietly.

"My father," Draco mumbled before he fell asleep.

XxXxX

Harry sat there watching Malfoy sleep for what felt like an eternity, but was probably no more than a few minutes. The blond boy confounded him. At one moment he was stoic and tight-lipped and the next he was telling him that he wanted Harry to win the war.

And what did that mean anyway? If Malfoy was on Voldemort's side than why would he want Harry to win? None of this made any sense to the black-haired teen. With a frustrated sigh, Harry went to tell Madame Pomfrey that Malfoy was asleep and that he was going to speak with their teachers about not being there tomorrow.

"Harry!" He heard someone call behind him. Harry turned around and saw Hermione running toward him.

"Hi, 'Mione, where's Ron?" Harry asked his friend.

"Oh, I lost him outside of Potions class. I have no idea where he went. Are you going to lunch?" She asked. Harry had forgotten all about lunch and his stomach gave a loud rumble at the prospect of food.

"I guess I am." He chuckled, following the girl into the Great Hall. A few minutes later Harry was tucking into a chicken pie when Ron walked in with none other than Blaise Zabini. Harry almost choked on his food.

"Hiya Harry, didn't think you'd be here." Ron said pleasantly as he sat down on Harry's left.

"What? Oh, yea, Malfoy. He's asleep and I was going to talk to our professors but since they are at lunch I thought I'd have a bite." Harry explained. Hermione, who had been talking to Ginny turned toward Harry.

"What's that about Malfoy?" She asked curiously.

"Oh, I volunteered to stay with him while he's in the Hospital Wing, since, it was my fault and all." Harry explained.

"Is he ok? How long is he going to be in there?" The girl asked.

"About three days, and he seems to be doing ok. He hasn't complained and didn't even flinch when Pomfrey cleaned it. I was surprised really. He acted as if he would die when Buckbeak gave him that little scratch." Harry said.

"Well, people change." Hermione said giving Harry a knowing look but it just confused Harry.

"Right, I guess they do," He said feeling awkward under her gaze and instead turned his attention to Ron. "So Ron, did I see you walk in with Blaise Zabini?" Harry questioned the red-head who was inhaling his food.

"Yop," He said threw a piece of his pie.

"Why?" Harry asked. He couldn't think of one reason why the two would be coming in together.

"Just arrived at the same time, I guess," Ron said not looking at Harry. Harry tried to tell if the boy was hiding something but he was too distracted by Ron's bulging cheeks to be able to tell.

"Oh," He said turning away to look at his own food. He suddenly felt guilty for sitting here with his friends and eating while Malfoy was up in the Hospital Wing alone. It had been Harry's fault to begin with. Hermione was looking at Harry thoughtfully.

"Come on," She said. Harry looked up at her.

"Where we going?" He asked.

"We need to talk." She said grabbing his arm. Harry let the girl drag him to his feet.

"Wheryogoin?" Ron asked through his food. Hermione grimaced.

"To the library. Wanna come?" She asked sweetly. Ron went white and quickly shook his head, as she knew he would. "Alright then." She said and the pulled Harry behind her.

Once out in the hall, Hermione turned around, grabbed the front of Harry's robes and pushed him against the wall. Before he could make a sound, she quickly covered his mouth with hers. The kiss went on for a few seconds with no reaction from Harry, before Hermione pulled away.

Harry was looking at him, his eyes were wide and his mouth was open in shock.

"What was that?" He asked, his voice a bit strangled. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It was a kiss, Harry."

"I knew that." He said angrily. "But, why?"

"To prove a point," she said and let go of him.

"And what point was that?" He asked straightening his robes.

"Let's talk about this somewhere else." Hermione said and lead Harry to the library.

The library was empty since everyone was at lunch so Hermione led Harry to the first table she saw. From the table they had a perfect view of the front door and would know if anyone came in.

"Now, Harry, what is going on with you and Malfoy?" Hermione asked as she sat down.

"I don't know what your talking about. Nothing's going on" Harry said going stiff and defensive. Hermione gave him a look and he sighed heavily. "It's just like I told you before. I just wanted to get a reaction out of him." Harry said. Hermione surveyed him intensely.

"Is that why you really wrote the letter?" She asked. Harry stared at his hands.

"Yeah," He said.

"Are you sure that's the only reason?" She asked him. Harry looked up at her startled.

"Of course, why else?"

"Harry, did you feel anything? When I kissed you, I mean. Anything at all?" She asked him, instead of answering his question.

"No, of course not. You're my friend and I don't think of you that way." Harry cried.

"Are you sure it's because I'm you're friend and not because I'm a girl?" She asked.

"What-what are you trying to say?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Well, it's just that you haven't exactly been…interested in a lot of girls." Hermione said blushing with embarrassment. "And…I was just thinking…I mean…" She left off and her cheeks were flaming. Harry stared at her and then his mouth dropped open in shock.

"You think I'm…that I'm…_bent_?!" He asked incredulously. Hermione nodded sheepishly. "Hermione! How can you think that? What about-about Cho last year? I really had it bad for her." He exclaimed.

"Well, she was always kind of boyish and really, Harry, you went on one date with her and that was the end of it." Hermione said crossly.

"That's because all she did was bloody _cry_," He said.

"I just think there's more to it than that, is all." She said with a shrug.

"But there isn't more to it. I like girls. I like there soft skin and shiny hair and the way their body moves when they walk." Harry said. Hermione looked at him.

"Harry, describe you dream girl." She requested. Harry looked at her suspiciously but did as she asked.

"Well, she has to like Quidditch," Harry started out slowly and then began to warm up to his topic. "And be smart, too. She has to be passionate and mysterious. Always keep me on my toes, you know. Be challenging and keep things interesting." Harry said. "I want her to be tall. Not taller than me but about the same height or close to it .She should be slim, not stick-like but not fat either, I want to be able to put my arms around her. I want her to be toned not all squishy, y'know. She has to really care for her looks and her body, maybe work out or something. If a girl cares what she looks like that means she has high self-esteem. I don't want to have to tell her she's pretty all the time."

"What about looks? Hair and eye colour…" Hermione asked. Harry frowned.

"I don't really care what she looks like. Black hair, maybe? Cho had black hair." Harry paused and thought for a moment. "No, not black…blond. Yeah, blond would be good. Eye colour…I want her to have eyes that really stand out. They have to be unique and expressive. Eyes that set her apart. Like Remus's amber eyes do for him and my mother's and my green." Harry stopped and looked at Hermione who was grinning at him. "What?" He asked immediately self conscience.

"You just described Malfoy to a 't'." She said still grinning.

"What? N-no I didn't." Harry sputtered.

"Yes, you did." She said nodding.

"How did you get Malfoy out of that? I was talking about a girl." Harry said.

"Well, let's see," Hermione said and began to tally with her fingers. "Number one has to like Quidditch. Malfoy is the Slytherin seeker and from what I hear, loves Quidditch just as much as you and is sensational. "

"Right" Harry snorted. "He couldn't even get on the team himself." Hermione glared at him.

"Do you think Lucius Malfoy is a stupid man? There is no way he would spend all that money on new brooms for the team if he didn't think they had a chance. Lucius wouldn't make a bad investment. He knew Draco would train hard and he does. The only seeker better than him is you." She said. Harry didn't say anything but thought about that.

_Guess that would explain why Slytherin is always playing Gryffindor in the house cup_ Harry thought. Hermione continued.

"Number two, has to be smart. Malfoy's marks are really good. He is right behind me in all subjects and beats me in Potions."

"That's because Snape favours him." Harry argued.

"No it isn't. I wish it was, believe me. I'd like to think he's a spoiled prat as much as you but he is very intelligent." Hermione assured him. "Number three, has to be passionate. Isn't that what you were just saying earlier? That you miss Malfoy's 'reactions'? Malfoy has always been fiery and passionate. He doesn't back down and always turns up the heat on things. "

"True," Harry mutter reluctantly.

"Number four, has to be mysterious and keep you on your toes. What do you really know about Malfoy? Not much. He's as big of a mystery as you're likely to get. And he has always kept you on your toes. You never know where he's going to be or what he's going to say."

Harry had no response.

"Number five, be a challenge and interesting. Malfoy and you have been competing against one another since day one. What more of a challenge can you get? And even I have to admit that Malfoy is interesting. The way he's been raised and the life he's lead thus far is very intriguing. There's no telling what he knows."

"Yes, think of all the spells he knows to disembowel a person." Harry muttered. Hermione ignored him.

"Number six, height, body, and self-esteem. Malfoy is same height as you if not maybe an inch shorter. From what I hear he is a total fitness guru. He's always training for Quidditch and works out daily. He's slim and trim and I don't believe there's an ounce of fat on that body. He's good-looking and he knows it."

"Yeah and he's a right bastard about it to. He thinks he's God's gift to the world or something." Harry exclaimed.

"True, he can be a bit…insufferable. But it's not without merit. He looks good and works hard to look that way." Hermione replied.

"Number seven, should be blonde with a unique eye colour. Well obviously he's blond so that's that. As for the eye colour, grey is a very unique colour all on its own. Many times in Greek Mythology they have their gods and goddesses with that eye colour because it's so rare. Not only that, but Malfoy's eyes are truly something to see. Sometimes they can be charcoal grey when he's upset, stone grey when he's being cold and molten silver when he's angry. It's quite amazing." Hermione gushed. Harry looked at her oddly. "Sorry," She muttered sheepishly.

"So what's all this suppose mean anyway?" Harry asked her. "And why do you care?"

"Harry, it means that you're dream girl could very well be Malfoy." Hermione said as if it was obvious. "And I care because you're my friend and you're not happy right now."

"But Hermione, I already told you. I'm not queer. I like girls. And besides, why would I like _Malfoy _of all people?" Harry said exasperated. "And I am perfectly happy."

Hermione sighed in frustration.

"I give up," She announced throwing her hands up in the air.

"Good," Harry said.

"But I do have one more question for you."

"Alright," Harry said warily.

"Why are you so depressed right now?" Harry was a bit taken back by her question. He opened and closed his mouth. He wanted to tell her that he was not depressed but he couldn't.

"I'm afraid Malfoy is angry with me. And I feel horrible. In the last two days I've called him a slut and now I've burnt him. What's next?" Harry sighed.

"Harry, I know this all seems…odd to you. I know you probably didn't even realize that you liked Malfoy-"

"I do not like Malfoy!" Harry yelled.

"Alright, alright, but still, I just want to say that whatever you decided…I'm here for you. I trust your judgment. I know I've been a bit paranoid in the past and all but really I just want what's best for you."

"And you think Malfoy is what's best for me?" Harry scoffed.

"Not Malfoy per se. But Harry, you have so much love to give and I'd like to see you give that love to someone who'll return it the way it should, someone who will love you for you and not for your name."

"Malfoy, whether I loved him or not, which I don't, would never love me back," Harry protested.

"Maybe, maybe not but still, if anyone would be able to love you, Harry, rather than the Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, it'd be Malfoy. He's always despised your fame." Hermione reasoned.

"No, he's always despised me. Besides, Malfoy has made it clear that he doesn't believe in love. He believes that 'love is always over in the morning'…what's that mean anyway?" Harry asked looking at his friend.

"Wait, slow down, what's the question?" Hermione asked. Harry took a deep breath.

"Malfoy once wrote in one of his letters that it has been his experience that 'love is always over in the morning'. I guess I just don't understand that."

"Harry, I think you should get to know Malfoy. You know, ask him about that comment and others or something. Open up communication. Isn't that what you wanted all along?" Hermione questioned. Harry looked at his friend. He didn't understand why Hermione was suddenly so on-board with this but something in the back of his head told him to just take it and run with it.

"Maybe," He said and with a sigh he got up. "I should go talk with the Professors so I can get back to the Hospital Wing before Snape accuses me of shirking my duties." Hermione nodded.

"Alright then,"

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

(An: and the plot thickens…..Hermione is female and therefore very perspective. Hence, how she could make all those observations on Malfoy.)


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter seven: Hating the stars**

Draco woke up to absolute darkness. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and tried to see through the inky blackness. As his eyes began to adjust he could barely make out the outline of a window at the end of his bed. It was a new moon so the only light was the tiny pinpricks of the stars.

Draco looked up at the stars through the window. He hated stars. That might sound odd but he really did. Most people loved them, thought they were pretty, and made up great stories about the many constellations.

But those were all lies. Draco knew the truth. Constellations never looked like what they were said to be. They were just a bunch of lines that vaguely resembled anything other than a child's doodle. And stars were just big balls of burning gas and what looked like a vibrant landscape of light was really a graveyard. Many of those stars had long since burnt out and were now dead. Dead yet pretending to be alive.

Kind of like Draco. Sometimes he felt so dead but to everyone else, he looked alive. Draco was named after a star, well a constellation really, Draco the Dragon. His mother thought it was cute. It went along with the Black's theme of naming their children after stars.

The Black's were liars. Draco was too. He constantly pretended to be something he was not, and he hated it.

Draco turned his head away from the stars. Who cares really if they're liars, they're pretty to look at, like Draco. Just a pretty little doll, barely human. Or at least that's how he was treated.

When Draco's eyes adjusted to the new degree of darkness that was on the side of his bed he was shocked to see that a chair was pulled up to his bedside. The chair was empty but there was an overturned book on it.

There was a noise from the bathroom and the Hospital Wing was flooded with light as the door opened. Draco squinted his eyes and could barely make out the mop of messy black-hair and the round plastic glasses.

Potter turned off the light and stumbled blindly toward Draco's bed, making enough noise to wake the dead along his way. Draco heard Potter give a jaw cracking yawn and heard him settle back down into his chair.

"_Lumos_," He whispered and a light came from the tip of his wand. Potter held the wand so that the small circle of light was directed away from Draco and was focused on his book in front of him. Draco strained his eyes to try and read the cover.

On the cover was a picture of a couple, a man and a woman. The man had messy black hair and round plastic glasses over hazel eyes. The woman had flaming red hair and brilliant green eyes. They were hugging each other and waving ecstatically.

Draco watched as Potter flipped through the photo album. His face set in a soft, sad smile. Every now and then the black haired boy would run his fingers slowly over a particular picture. When he got to the end of the book, Potter reached down into his bag and pulled out a photograph and a piece of parchment.

Before he turned the photograph to face him, Draco was able to catch a glimpse of it. It was of two boys about Draco's age. One was obviously a Black. He had thick black hair that was synonymous with the males of his mother's family. His features were much like Draco's own, chiseled and sharp covered with alabaster skin. His eyes were a piercing blue and outlined in thick coal black lashes.

The other boy looked vaguely familiar. He had light brown hair that seemed to shimmer with gold, bronze, and copper and- was that silver? In the sun light. His features were softer than the others but more drawn in. He looked older than his years. His completion was like desert sand and he had faint white scars across his face and poking out of the collar of his shirt. His eyes were a remarkable amber colour that was outlined by dusky brown lashes and a dusting of freckles kissed the bridge of his nose.

The pair in the photo had their arms wrapped around each others' waists and alternated between kissing and smiling at the camera.

Potter looked at the photo fondly before placing it on a blank page in the back of the book with some Spell-o tape. He looked at the photo for a few moments more before snapping the book closed and after giving, who Draco could only assume were his parents, one last look he put the book back in his bag.

Potter than turned to the parchment. He looked at it with a bit of confusion and hesitation. Draco had to quickly close his eyes when Potter looked over at him. With his eyes barely cracked, Draco could see Potter look at him as if he wanted to be sure he was asleep.

Seeming to be satisfied that Draco was indeed asleep, Potter turned away and looked at the parchment in his hand, and opened it.

XxXxX

Harry couldn't sleep. His mind was a whirlwind of activity ever since his talk with Hermione in the library. He kept running what she said over and over again in his mind. It just didn't seem possible. Harry did _not _like Malfoy in any sense of the word.

_But that's kind of the point. It's always one extreme or another with you and Malfoy. It's either hate or…_ A voice that sounded oddly like Hermione spoke up.

_No, No I cannot be in…love, with Draco Malfoy. It isn't possible_ Harry argued.

_Of course you can- _The voice said but Harry snuffed it out before it could continue to speak.

He needed to do something to keep his mind busy. Harry reached down into the bag he had packed before dinner, and pulled out the photo album that Hagrid had given him. He lit his wand and looked lovingly at the photograph of his parents on the front.

_That's what's supposed to be. That'll be me and Ginny one day._ Harry thought as a slight smile tugged at his lips.

_But you don't love Ginny_. The voice protested.

_Well not now, but I am only sixteen. I will grow to love her. It's fate; it's what's meant to be. _ Harry argued and opened the book to cut off any more protests from his inner-Hermione.

Harry looked at each photo. He smiled at the ones of his father and his friends doing something silly and he glowed at the ones showing his father and mother looking at each other with stars in their eyes.

After a few minutes Harry's bladder demanded relief and the boy quickly complied. Harry put his album on his chair beside Malfoy's bed and swiftly walked to the loo.

Once finished, Harry came back and resumed flipping through the photos. When he got to the end of the pages with photos and was looking only at blank white pages he reached down into his bag and took out the photograph Remus had given him over the summer. Along with it came a piece of parchment.

Harry didn't know what that was, but set it off to the side for later. He turned his attention to the photo, which he had placed in his lap. It was of Remus and Sirius. It showed them as a couple. A couple that was completely enamored with each other, completely captivated by one another and completely, utterly without a shadow of a doubt, in love.

The photo made Harry want to sigh whimsically but he refrained. He had to say it was quite a shock when Remus told him the full extent of his and Sirius's relationship, but Harry didn't care. To tell the truth, Harry was just happy that Sirius had found that kind of love in his life and had it before he died.

Harry used some Spell-o tape on the back of the photo and placed it on a blank page. He looked at the photo again. As he looked at it, it began to change before his eyes.

Sirius's long hair shortened and went from perfect to untamable and shortened. His icy blue eyes turned blazing green and were surrounded by black round glasses. His sharp features, softened and his pale complexion turned bronze.

Remus also changed. His golden hair turned silver and grew to where it swiped at the nape of his neck. His round features, hardened and his sandy skin became marble. Remus's glowing amber eyes became flashing sliver.

Harry suddenly jolted and snapped the book close.

_No, I am not in love with Draco Malfoy. Hermione just put all this into my head with her psycho babble. It's nothing. _He told himself. He looked down at the front of the book where his parents were waving up at him. They looked so utterly happy. _That's what I will have. That's what's meant to be._ He decided and slipped the book back into his bag.

Harry than picked up the piece of parchment. Now that he looked at it he could see that it was the one that Zabini had given him. Harry was unsure about what to do with it. He didn't know what it contained and wasn't entirely sure that he trusted the Slytherin.

Harry looked over at Malfoy. The blonde had been sleeping since just before lunch. Harry watched as the dim starlight played over the boy's pale features. His silken hair was spread across the pillow and his chest rose and fell rhythmically as he breathed.

Harry's heart fluttered and his breath quickened.

_No,_ he told himself and pulled his eyes away from him. He turned to the parchment and opened it slowly hoping not to make too much noise. Once the parchment was open Harry quickly scanned its contents again and re-folded it hastily.

It was a poem written by Malfoy. Harry didn't know why Zabini had given it to Harry instead of just putting it with the blonde's stuff.

_Maybe he wanted me to read it._ Harry wondered. But even if that was the case, Harry was _not_ going to do that. It was a personal and private thing that Harry had no right to read. Harry put the parchment back in his bag and settled himself in his seat.

Harry must've fallen asleep after that because when he woke next, the room was lit up with weak sunlight. The sky was covered in grey storm clouds. He stood up and stretched and let out a loud groan as his sore muscles screamed in protest.

"Sleeping in a chair; bad idea," He grumbled as he rubbed his neck.

"Sore?" Harry's head snapped up causing his neck to crack. "Ouch," Malfoy grimaced in sympathy.

"Oh, I am definitely going to feel that later." Harry groaned. "I didn't know you were up."

"I have been for a while. I was beginning to wonder if you had died." Malfoy said. The blond boy was sitting up in bed with a tray of food on his lap.

"I wish I would've." Harry mumbled. Malfoy took a bite out of his sandwich. He chewed for a moment, swallowed and then spoke.

"Where you dreaming?" He asked. Harry looked at him oddly but thought about it.

"Uh, yeah I think so." He said. Malfoy nodded.

"Your eyelids were flickering." He said. Harry's jaw dropped.

"You were watching me sleep?" He questioned incredulously.

"I was bored." Malfoy shrugged. Neither said anything for a moment, and then Harry broke the silence.

"I, uh, I didn't…say anything, did I?" He asked, his cheeks flaming with embarrassment. Malfoy looked at him with interest.

"No. Do you normally?" His grey eyes alight with curiosity.

"Uh, sometimes. I have a lot of nightmares and I tend to, uh…talk in my sleep." The black-haired boy said staring at a spot on Malfoy's blanket.

"Really?" Malfoy asked.

"Yeah, I didn't really know until the summer after fourth year. Dudley, my cousin, said I was talking in my sleep. That I was moaning."

"What were you saying?"

"I kept dreaming about the last task of the Triwizard Tournament. The graveyard, Voldemort and Cedric's death." Harry said softly. "Dudley said that I was pleading for Cedric's life."

"Oh," Malfoy said quietly, he seemed to be at a lost for words. Silence spread between them but before it got too thick, Harry cleared his throat.

"So, I've told you something about me, your turn." Harry said looking at the other boy intensely.

"Ok," The blond said.

XxXxX

Draco was a astonished that Potter had opened up so much, but then again he shouldn't have been surprised at all. Harry Potter is an open book. All one has to do is watch him and they could easily find out what he was feeling or thinking. He wore his heart on his sleeve. Not like Draco.

But nonetheless, Draco was fascinated by what the Boy-Who-Lived told him. He did know a fair amount about what went on in the graveyard between Potter and the Dark Lord. He knew about the murder of Cedric Diggory. His father _had_ been there and the older Malfoy was something of a gossip and a braggart. But he hadn't known how much it had affected Potter and it seemed apparent that the boy blamed himself.

"Um, I'm not really sure what to say." Draco said looking at his hands. He wasn't use to opening up. In fact, he had spent a good part of his life being taught how to close himself off. How to hide behind a mask of disdan.

"Say anything." The raven-haired boy prompted softly.

_Say anything?_ Draco thought. To have complete amnesty was something he couldn't even begin to fathom. Freedom of speech was not heard of in the home of Lucius Malfoy and his son surely had never experienced such a thing. Even while being within the walls of Hogwarts, Draco's words were watched and controlled. If he ever slipped, ever said or did anything that he wasn't suppose to, that would bring shame or inquiry onto the Malfoy name, he was duly punished.

"I don't know what to say." Draco insisted getting a bit frustrated. He always had something to say. Even if he couldn't say it out loud it was always there, lurking in the depths of his mind, but now it was a blank. He had nothing to say.

"Can I ask you a question then? Maybe that'll help?" Potter suggested. Draco nodded still staring at his hands; they looked washed out in the hazy pale sunlight. He could see the soft blue veins under his skin.

"Why are you so cynical about love?" He asked his voice soft and low as if not to scare Draco away. Draco's head snapped up in surprise and he looked at the other boy.

"I'm not-"the blond started to say but was cut off.

"You are too!" Potter protested. "You once wrote that you believe that 'love is always over in the morning'. What do you mean by that?"

"Ah," Draco drawled. "Let me guess, you, Potter, believe in love. But why not? Anything is possible for Harry Potter, even love." The black-haired teen opened his mouth but Draco cut him off. "No, I will answer your question. You are correct in your thinking that I am not the relationship type. I see no point in relationships.

I am a Slytherin, we take what we want and emotions be damned. There are no relationships in the snake pit. It isn't possible or probable. And I hardly think I need to tell you that it's not likely a Slytherin would ever be with anyone other than a Slytherin.

Not entirely by our own choice but we tend to be shunned from the rest of the houses. And yes, as you thought, Pansy and I do shag from time to time. Why not? I am to marry her so might as well.

I guess that is the answer to why I am cynical about love. No one I know has ever been in love. I have never experienced love. When I was younger I was foolish enough to believe that it was out there and it was possible. I even convinced myself that I could be in love with Pansy, but childhood innocence never lasts long.

I soon realized that love does not exist. At least not as it was intended to. Love was supposed to be pure and simple. Now it is complicated and tainted. All my life I have seen love used as a tool to get further somewhere. My father has seduced many young ladies, while married to my mother, to get them to do what he wanted. He wined them, dined them and bedded them all the while letting them believe that he cared for them when really they were just one of many.

So when I say, 'love is over in the morning', I mean that in the most literal terms. Those young girls thought my father loved them and that they loved him and return. But when the morning came and he kicked them out with nothing more than a thank-you, they realized that love doesn't exist." Draco stopped, his words carrying a deafening silence behind them. Potter looked up at him stunned.

"Is that really how you see it?" He asked. Draco nodded. "Oh, Draco," He sighed and Draco went stiff at hearing his first name. "You are so lost. Love is real and it's the greatest thing in this world. You are right though, love often does get tainted and becomes all about circumstances but so does a lot of things. Life was meant to be simple but it isn't, not anymore. Does that mean life doesn't exist? No, it just means that you got to try a little harder and give it your all." Draco let Potter's soft voice wash over him. When the other boy stopped speaking Draco felt light-headed.

"What if I have nothing to give?" Draco asked softly, his eyes full of liquid emotion. Potter gave a small smile.

"Now I don't believe that." He said and handed Draco a piece of parchment. Draco recognized it immediately, it was his poem.

"Where did you get that?" He asked in a choked voice. _No no no, Potter could _not _have that. He just couldn't. _

"Zabini gave it to me yesterday when I went to get our things from Potions." He answered calmly. Draco reached out and snatched the parchment from the other boy's hand.

"Did you read it?" He demanded. Potter looked stunned.

"No, of course not." He sputtered. Draco let out a breath.

"Good," He said and the pair lapsed into a slightly awkward silence.

"Can I?" Potter asked after a few moments.

"Can you what?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"Can I read it?"

"It's mine, it's private." Draco said.

"I know," Potter said and nothing else. His green eyes bore into Draco's. It was almost as if they were begging Draco to trust him. Draco sighed.

"Alright," He said, Potter broke out into a grin. "On one condition." The grin faded a bit. "What was that freak out in detention the other day about?" the grin vanished completely and a deep frown took its place.

_I've got him now._

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

(AN: Aww, Harry is soooo clueless!!)


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter eight: Confessions are good for the soul

Harry was…shocked to say the least, by Malfoy's condition. What the blond Slytherin would tack onto his permission for Harry to read his poem, had not matched up to what he had thought it would be.

"Why- why do you want to know about that?" Harry asked, his voice sounding too shaky for the piece of mind of his pride. Malfoy looked at him, his grey eyes boring into Harry.

"I've been watching you." He began. "You never go near a cupboard if you can help it. In class, you always send your partner to get the supplies. And outside of class, you never go near a broom cupboard and you practically sprint way from one that dared be under a flight of stairs and you keep your broom with you in your room as if you're afraid to keep it in the store cupboard…or maybe you're afraid of the store cupboard. I simply must know what this is all about." He explained.

"Curiosity killed the cat," Harry mumbled.

"Curiosity may have killed the cat; more likely the cat was just unlucky, or else curious to see what death was like."

Harry blinked at him.

"It's from a poem by Alastair Reid. I found it in one of my mother's books." Malfoy said looking away.

"Why does your mother have a book of muggle poems?" Harry asked. Malfoy scowled.

"Stop changing the subject." Harry's mouth dropped open.

"You're the one started spouting out muggle poetry." Malfoy looked at him.

"Yeah, so, what's your point?" He asked blinking owlishly at him. Harry shook his head. "So, Potter, spill."

"Alright." He sighed. "I'm claustrophobic." He mumbled. "It means I'm afraid of small spaces. Most the time, when there's danger or whatever I'm ok, but other than that I get all queasy and shaky." Harry shuffled his feet and wondered how much to tell the blond. He decided to go all the way. "Up until I was eleven, I lived in the cupboard under the stairs in my aunt and uncle's house. I guess ever since then I can't stand small spaces. Bad memories and all that." Malfoy looked at him for a moment.

"Your relatives...put you in a cupboard for eleven years?" Malfoy questioned deadpanned. Harry nodded staring at his feet. "And yet you want to save arseholes like that?"

Harry's head snapped up at the unexpected comment.

"Just because they're not the nicest people doesn't mean they deserve to die." Harry said. Malfoy scoffed.

"If the arseholes of the world don't deserve to die, who then?" He asked. Harry looked at him.

"Malfoy….I may be the Saviour of the Wizarding World but it's not for me to say who lives or die, other than the people at the other end of my wand." Harry said. Malfoy shook his head.

"We are all going to die, Potter. Some sooner than others but in the end we will all take the same journey." He said looking away. "Despite status, race, or ability, death is the ultimate equalizer and only in death will all the prejudice of the world stop."

Harry was a bit shocked by Malfoy's words. He hadn't known that the blond Slytherin was so…deep.

"That's true, Malfoy." He said but the other boy didn't seem to be listening. The pair lapsed into silence for a few minutes until Malfoy broke it.

"So the Golden Boy isn't perfect." He said, Harry couldn't identify his tone.

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" Harry asked anxiously. The other boy looked at him with an odd expression it was almost…pensive and thoughtful.

"No, I'm not. I think I'll keep this revelation to myself for a while." Malfoy responded. Harry nodded gratefully. Malfoy yawned. "I think I need to rest some more." He said and Harry got the hint.

"Oh, ok," The black-haired boy said as he got up and slung his bag over his shoulder. He grabbed Malfoy's lunch tray from across his lap and head toward the door. Harry stopped once he got to the door and turned back to the blond who was already lying on his back.

"Draco?" He called. Malfoy's head snapped toward him but he didn't comment. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Malfoy's face took on an unreadable expression and the boy gave a tight nod in acknowledgement to Harry's words. Harry gave a short nod of his own and left the room.

XxXxX

Draco was exhausted. Too many confessions and revelations in one day. They say 'confessions are good for the soul', Draco didn't know about that but he did know that they were hell on the nerves. How was it that Potter was always able to slip through his defenses so easily? How could it be that his rival, his enemy, could stir such emotions in him that he hadn't felt since the end of the last school year?

True, Potter had always gotten a rise out of Draco. No matter how calm, collected or simply melancholy Draco was, going into a confrontation with Potter, he always walked away feeling hot and bothered and thoroughly ruffled.

But now the emotions were completely different. Why did it always have to be one extreme or the other with Potter? Why couldn't the pair simply meet on middle ground? But no matter how much Draco wondered that, he could never quiet pin an answer, in words at least. In his heart of hearts and in the depths of his mind he knew why but he couldn't but the vague thoughts and feelings into actual words.

Then Potter had to go and confess to being locked in a cupboard for eleven years.

Draco, like many of the students at Hogwarts, naturally assumed that Potter was treated like a god by his muggle relatives. How could anything else be true? Potter was the boy-who-live; he defeated Voldemort when he was a baby! How could know-nothing muggles not live in fear of him? Yet in less than an hour, Potter had completely dispensed all thoughts that Draco had about his fabulous childhood.

And it had left the blond utterly rattled.

How was he to deal with this information? If it had been two years ago, he could've sold the scoop to that horrible Skeeter woman, but now? Draco didn't know. The knowledge was weighing heavily on his heart and tugging at the rusty strings of sympathy and empathy. This was the last thing Draco needed.

Potter and his friends pulling silly little pranks was one things, but when Potter went and opened himself to Draco and got Draco to do the same…it was all too much.

And what was with calling him by his first name? And why did Draco want to call him 'Harry'? Things were getting complicated fast.

XxXxX

_Oh God, oh God, I just called him 'Draco'! _ Harry thought frantically as he sped through the Hospital Wing toward the door. _Of all the times I had to say it now, after that huge confession. What the hell is wrong with me?! _He wondered as he set Dra- _Malfoy_'s tray down on a cart by the door.

As he did so, something caught his eye. It was Malfoy's poem. He must've set it down on the tray at some point.

Harry found himself reaching forward for the parchment. His noble Gryffindor side told him to leave it be, that it was wrong. However, his teenage boy side said that a deal was a deal. Malfoy had said he'd let Harry read it, if Harry told him about his claustrophobia. Fair was fair.

Harry decided it was hard to argue with that logic and decided to take the note with him to the lake so he could read it under 'his' tree on the bank of the water.

XxXxX

The sun glistened off the cerulean surface, lighting it up with golden sparks. Harry watched as the water lazily lapped at the sandy bank, each time taking more and more of it back with it to be lost in the depths. The Great Squid popped his head up every now and then to soak in some of the glorious rays.

Harry settled himself of the soft green grass under his favourite birch tree. The tree he had seen his father, and the other marauders, hanging out under in one of Snape's memories last year.

He leaned against the smooth bark of the tree and basked in the warm sun for a few moments. For the last twenty-four hours he had been wrought with worry and concern over Malfoy and then he had been riddled with guilt over the whole mess. Now he needed to get his emotions back under control.

No more slips and using Malfoy's given name. It was bad enough he kept saying it over and over again in his dreams as the blond did sinfully good and erotic things to him. It was bad enough to deal with his own shame and disgust over the dreams and the random thoughts on how good Malfoy was looking that particular day, but he didn't need the Slytherin finding out and tormenting him. He could torment himself just fine thanks. He didn't need outside help.

Harry sighed heavily. He was hopelessly pathetic and yet he couldn't help but want to sigh wistfully as well. though Draco Malfoy hadn't been on the top of his 'to do' list, no matter how literally, the other boy was all Harry seemed to think about and a thought about Draco (saying Malfoy while talking about lovey-dovey feelings towards him just seems odd) always incited a warm fuzzy feeling that spread from his chest to the very tips of his fingers and hair, where it gathered and buzzed pleasantly.

Harry groaned.

He decided to take his mind off of himself and turn it onto the piece of parchment in his hand. He slowly unfolded it and began to read;

_What do you see,_

_When you look at me?_

_Do you see me,_

_Or who I'm supposed to be?_

_Can you see through the mask,_

_Or it that too difficult of a task?_

_Let me assure you,_

_What you see is not what you get_

_When you look at me I bet you'd never guess_

_That on the inside I'm full of hopelessness_

_There are things about me you could never know._

_You'll always see me as a foe._

_I never wanted to be this way._

_I never got a say._

_I was born into a world that you'd never get._

_One you never even thought of, I bet._

_Nobody knows me._

_Nobody cares what I could be._

_Nobody knows that on the inside I cry._

_Nobody knows that on the inside I die._

_I'm glad you never thought to care,_

_Because if you ever looked in my eyes, you'd see that's there's nothing there_

_I'm not who I appear to be,_

_But I don't know how to be me_

_There's really no point to try,_

_Because in the end I am going to die_

_And nobody will care,_

_Because my death will make life fair._

Harry finished and to his chagrin, his cheeks were wet from fresh tears. There was so much pain behind the words that Draco had penned. So much feeling and hurt. And yet, Harry had never guessed. He had known something was wrong with the blond but what could've happened to make the boy hurt so much.

How could he get this lonely and no one know?

And how can he be so certain of his own death. True, everyone is going to die one day or another, but the way Draco put it, was like he expected it to be soon and wholly untimely.

This baffled Harry.

The black-haired teen put his head against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. His mind was full of dizzying thoughts that chased each other around and round and stirred up several emotions within him, confusion being the main one but there was also, sadness, fear…and understanding.

He may not know what Draco's situation was but he understood at least one thing from the boy's poem. What you see is not what you get, for either of them apparently.

XxXxX

Draco watched from a window of the hospital wing as Potter made his way to the edge of the lake. He watched the boy sit down and, though he was floors above him, he was sure he saw him read Draco's parchment which he had left on the tray. Fair was fair, a Malfoy always stuck with his bargains, but that didn't mean they couldn't weasel out of uncomfortable situations.

Draco sighed and went back to his bed. After Potter had left, he had protested, loudly, that he was more than healed and could leave. He didn't want word of what he had done to get around school anymore than it already had. He was sure that both Blaise and Severus would do their utmost to keep it quite but things had a way of getting out around Hogwarts.

The blond snuggled under the starch woolen hospital blanket and let his head rest on the stiff and sterile hospital pillow. He stared up at the blank white ceiling for so long that he was sure that the small bumps on the left formed the word 'Harry' and the bumps on the right spelt out 'cheese'.

Draco sighed again. He was so bored. He rolled over and fell asleep.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

(AN: ok the poem is not my best work but I really tried. Also I have scholarships, assignments and college crap to contend with so my updates will be really slow. So sorry!)


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter nine: Saturday

When Draco woke again his room was once again dark. The clock beside his bed said that it was ten p.m.

"Bloody fantastic." He grumbled. One of the reasons he hated staying in the Hospital wing was that his sleep pattern was always disrupted. It must be some magic in the air or a side effect of healing potions or maybe it was the body's own magic. Whatever be the case, it never ceased to irk the blond Slytherin. He had fallen asleep roughly around lunchtime and now it was well into the evening.

Draco rolled over and got a faceful of parchment. He pulled back and could barely make out the outline of it against the pillow. Draco sat up and grabbed the parchment. After groping around a few moments on the bedside table he located his wand and with a quick _Lumos, _he read it.

_Draco,_

_I saw that you were sleeping and simply couldn't wake you. You're just too cute. Did you know you look like an angel when you sleep? All peaceful and beautiful and the thumb sucking only adds to the appeal._

_Pomfrey wanted me to tell you that as soon as you awake you're suppose to drink the potion she left you on the bedside table. She switched your bandages while you were out and said you were healing nicely. The potions are keeping it clean and you should be able to be out on schedule. _

_Though, if Pomfrey had her way, you'd never get out. I wonder if the old bird is lonely and that's why she tries to trap students in here longer than necessary. No matter, she gave me a through tongue-lashing on how utterly irresponsible I am and Snape stopped by and called me every word for 'dense' there is. I have a suspicion that he had studied a thesaurus before he came by._

_Oh well,_

_Sweet dreams, pumpkin_

_Harry_

Draco was a bit thunderstruck by the letter. First, Potter wrote 'Draco' at the top and simply ended it with 'Harry'. Second, he was finding more and more out about Harry James Potter and each new tidbit of information made him like the bloke all the more and it was reaching a level that Draco wasn't sure he was all that comfortable with.

With each letter he was seeing more and more of Harry's wit and charm. Who knew Harry Potter had wit and charm? Draco certainly didn't. But not only that, Merlin help him, but Draco found himself looking _forward_ to the letters or, now, his time with Harry.

Draco shook his head to try and get the confusing thoughts out of his head. He yawned and looked around the room. His eyes landed on one of the other hospital beds that was oddly close to his own. He raised his wand higher and realized that the bed was occupied.

A mop of messy black hair was sticking out of the blankets.

_When he said he'd stay with me, he meant it. _ Draco thought. _Another thing I learned about Harry Potter, he's shamefully noble and irritatingly trusting. Not to mention absolutely adorable- I did _not _just think that…_

A sound from Harry's bed caught the blonde's attention. The black-haired teen made a small sound that sounded half- between a sigh and a coo. The tiny sound sent Draco's pulse racing, sending shivers down his spine. Then the other boy rolled over and the blankets that had been tucked over his shoulders were now pooled at his waist and Draco found out another thing about Harry Potter.

_He sleeps in his boxers. _Draco realized as he recognized the waistband of a pair of boxer shorts. Draco was sure he was going to have an aneurysm. The moon was flooding into the room from the huge window on the other side and it bathed the boy in its pale light. The light and shadows mapped out ever contour and crevice of the well defined chest of Quidditch-made muscles, hardened by fighting for his life.

Draco found that his mouth was suddenly dry and he had to swallow hard. A heat was rushing through his body. It rose up from the collar of his night shirt to creep up his neck and paint his cheeks in a flush. The heat also moved downward. It expanded in his chest and shot liquid fire straight to his groin.

_No, no ,no_. Draco thought, furiously. _ I am _not _getting turned on by Harry bloody Potter! _ As if life couldn't get any worse. But no matter how much Draco tried to deny it and no matter how much he shouted at him and tried to play it off as hormones, the fact remained. He was defiantly attracted to Harry Potter and his body was pulsing and throbbing its agreement to the boy's physique.

_Even if I do find Harry attractive…wait a moment, when did he stop being 'Potter' and became 'Harry'?_ Draco questioned himself.

_Since you've become 'Draco'_, a voice said.

_Since you've first met him in Madame Malkin's Robe shop all those years ago, _another said.

Draco suppressed a groan and buried his face in his pillow. He was so confused. Deciding that he would only drive himself mad from all his conflicting thoughts, Draco decided he should write Harry back.

He eased himself out of bed and headed toward his bag on the chair Harry had slept in on Draco's first night. He reached in the bag and pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink. He went back to his bed, picking up his portable writing desk along the way. Once settled back under the thick woolen hospital blanket and nestled amongst the pillows with the desk balancing on his knees he dipped his quill in the ink and began to write.

Once finished with his letter. Draco sent it over to Harry's bedside table with a spell and put his writing materials back where he had gotten them from. He then reached over to his own table and downed the medication that Madame Pomfrey had left for him. He laid back and stared at the ceiling until he felt the dizziness and drowsiness of the potion take affect and shortly after, was fast asleep.

XxXxX

Harry woke with a start as a loud clatter followed by an even louder curse resonated off the stone castle walls. With lighting fast reflexes, Harry had his glasses jammed on his face and his wand poised and ready. What he saw before him was…nothing. Actually, it wasn't _nothing. _He could make out an overturned tray of medical instruments in the hazy darkness of early morning, but other than that, Harry was completely alone.

He glanced over to Draco's bed and noticed that the blond was not in it. A few tense moments went by and the only sound was the thumping of Harry's heart. Finally the black-haired boy lowered his wand but his eyes stayed wide and alert. He yawned and stretched and looked around the room once more.

That's when the parchment on his bedside table caught his attention. At the sight of it, it was as if a dozen doves had just been released in the pit of his stomach. His heart sped up and his blood thinned causing his head to buzz. He reach forward and quickly snatched up the letter.

_Harry,_

_First off, I do _not _suck my thumb. How undignified! A Malfoy would never do something so plebian. Nor do we snore, snort, belch, pass gas or do anything that would alter our prim and proper image. It simply isn't done._

_As for Pomfrey and Severus, it is nice to know that you have been well reprimand for you idiocy, but do not fear, my dear, I have a few choice words for you as well. You don't think that I would allow you to injury me and not retaliate do you? In fact, at this very moment I am extracting my revenge._

_Draco,_

_P.s. Green is really your colour._

Harry finished the letter and was a bit confused by the end. What revenge? And what was he talking about 'green is really your colour'? Harry pondered that as he got out of bed and headed for the loo. Once there he did his business and went to the sink to wash his hands. While doing so, something caught his eye.

Harry looked up and nearly had a heart attack from shock.

Harry was…green! Not just his eyes but his hair and his skin as well. Every inch of him was Slytherin green. He looked like the creature from the black lagoon. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a giggle behind him. He whirled around.

Suddenly coming into view, was Draco, a silvery fabric pooled at his feet.

"You-you turned me _green!_" Harry cried at the sight of the blond. Draco couldn't take it anymore; he doubled over with laughter, clutching at his sides. Harry grabbed the pillow from behind his head and hurled it at the other boy. It smacked Draco squared in the face and sent him to the floor. "It's not funny!" Harry pouted, but as much as he wanted to be angry, there was no way he could, not with Draco, not at that moment. The blond Slytherin was practically rolling with laughter. His pale face was splotchy, his hair in disarray and fat tears were streaming down his cheeks.

"Yes-yes….it…is!" He wheezed as he gulped for air. Harry couldn't help himself; he too broke down into pearls of laughter.

"What's going on in here?" Boys both quickly sobered and turn to face a rather disgruntle Madame Pomfrey; Draco looked up from the ground. The matronly woman glared at the pair, her hands on her hips causing her robe to open slightly revealing her floral nightdress, her wiry gray hair was pulled up in curlers and a few wispy hairs had escaped and hung about her head.

"Uh…" Harry said unhelpfully.

"Mr. Malfoy!" She shrieked. "What _are_ you doing out of bed?"

"But-but…" the blond tried to say as he scrambled up off the floor, but the mediwitch would hear nothing of it.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, you know you are in my care for another two days. During that time you will be confided to bed rest. Now, scoot!" She scolded, rushing forward to shoo the boy back into his bed.

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," He intoned as he crawled into his bed. Harry chuckled but quickly turned it into a cough when she turned her attention on him.

"As for you, Mr. Potter, you are to watch over him. How is it that he got out of bed on your watch?" She questioned him. Harry's mouth flew open to defend himself but upon remembering the sever tongue-lashing he had received yesterday from the nurse, he quickly closed it again. "You are to be looking out for him and help ensure his full recovery."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey." He said glumly. The mediwitch looked between the two, gave a decisive nod and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Mr. Potter, a quick cleansing spell will take care of that green." Harry could've sworn he heard laughter in her voice. With that, the motherly old woman swept from the room.

"Well," Harry said once the door shut.

"Yeah," Draco replied.

"Quiet!" Madam Pomfrey ordered from the other side. Both quickly shut their mouths and slid under their covers, and were dozing in seconds.

XxXxX

When both boys woke again, the room was full of bright sunlight. Draco felt like his head might implode. He sat up and put his head in his hands and groaned.

"You alright there, Draco?' Harry questioned from the bed next to him.

"Yeah, I'm alright. It's just all this sleep is messing with my biological clock. Makes everything go wonky." He replied. Harry nodded; he had been in the Hospital Wing numerous times and knew the side-effects of healing potions and old-fashioned bed rest.

"It'll take a couple days to get everything back in order." Harry said. Draco just nodded and looked out the window. It was a beautiful day. The pair sat in silence for a few moments before Draco broke it.

"You don't have to stay with me today. I know you probably want to go to Hogsmeade." He said, looking down at his hands. Harry's head snapped up.

"No way. I'm not leaving you here all by yourself." He told the blond. Draco sighed heavily.

"Look, Harry, I don't need you to baby-sit me. I'm not a child."

"I know that!" Harry cried. "I- it's just…" He left off.

"It's just _what_?" Draco asked his tone sharp. Harry looked at his feet.

"I _want_ to stay." He said quietly. Draco's mouth flew open is shock.

"You _what_?' He asked, incredulously.

"I want to stay." Harry repeated, still refusing to look at the blond.

"Why the bloody hell do you want that?" Draco questioned.

"I don't know!" he shouted. "I know it's odd, trust me, I know. I know that I'm supposed to hate you but ever since we started the letters, hell, maybe even before, I just…want to spend time with you."

The Slytherin was , for once, speechless. The pair sat in silence for a few moments before Draco spoke.

"I'm glad you want to stay." He said softly. Harry looked up quickly, but Draco was staring out the window. "Ever since I've come back to school, I've been different. I'm not sure why, but I have. And it seemed that after a few months, I was forgotten. But when you wrote that letter…it made me feel like someone still remembered me, still knew I existed…still cared. I know that's ridiculous." He ran a hand threw his hair and sighed heavily.

"No, it's not." Harry said. "I know how it feels. Sometimes I wonder if the people who care about me only care about my name, not about me." Draco looked at him in a bit of shock.

"How can you say that? You're bloody Harry Potter."

"See, that's what I mean. I'm not just Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, sometimes I just want to be Harry, just Harry. But no one ever gives me that. They all idolize me."

"I never did." Draco said quietly. "I hated the Boy Who Lived. He always got all of my father's attention and everyone else's respect. I always had to work so hard for what I got, it was simply handed to you."

"I never asked for it." Harry cried.

"I know you didn't. I mean, if you really think about it, who would? Sure, my parents can be a right pain in the arse, but I wouldn't trade them to live with a bunch of muggles, relatives or no. I suppose I always found it a bit absurd that you'd get all this fame for something that not only happened when you were a baby but cost you your parents."

"I have to say I agree." The pair once again lapsed into silence. It was an oddly comfortable silence. One would think that it would be awkward, not just because it was between two supposed rivals but because the aforementioned rivals had just agreed on something.

"So, I know you hate Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, but how do you feel about Harry Potter, mediocre student and disastrous chess player?" Draco looked at the black-haired boy for a moment as if he were deep in thought.

"I think that, that is someone I'd like to get to know a bit more. And play chess against." He said after a moment. Harry's face broke into a wide grin.

"Alright, I think I'd like that too."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

((AN: Alright, alright! I know it's been soooo soooo long since I've updated. It's just been a stressful time. Lots of school stuff and college stuff and just plain stuff. I know it's not my best work but my next chapter will be up soon and be real good. I promise!)


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